A Dark Vision
by Mad Vampire Poet
Summary: Set after Tabula Rasa. Drusilla has a vision of Willow trying to destroy the world, and returns to Sunnydale to help her. Things don't go the way she'd planned.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary** **:** Set after Tabula Rasa. Drusilla has a vision of Willow trying to destroy the world, and returns to Sunnydale to help her. Things don't go as she'd planned.

 **Author's note** : So, here's the first chapter of my new story. First one I've written for years that isn't a crossover. Hope you enjoy. If you like it please review. This will be updated every two weeks, on Thursday or Friday.

* * *

 ** _A Dark Vision_**

 _Chapter One:_

 _The Vision_

* * *

Drusilla looked upon the chaos before her. There was blackness all around, swirling in her mind like silken ribbons. She saw so many things, but hardly knew what they meant. Her mind had never been clear, and it seemed worse than ever now she was alone. So many things inside, whispering to her, her darkest dreams come to life. Those visions were unbearable.

And she really hadn't been able to bear them, not for long. Not once Angel had come and ruined everything, ripping her away from her family, and everything she'd once held dear. Naughty Angel, he always ruined things. He'd broken her, he'd tried to break the Slayer. That hadn't worked well. She'd stabbed him, and it had all gone wrong. They were supposed to end it all, but the Slayer had stopped it. Her Spike had even helped her. Why had they wanted her to be miserable? The betrayal hurt.

One of the things Drusilla could see in the tangled web of images stood out to her. A girl, all alone, hurting so much. Feeling the pain of the whole world all at once, more than any one person could take. And she saw what that girl became, and what she could achieve, and smiled to herself.

This vision wasn't quite like the others. It was strangely clear, and much stronger. Drusilla, who had trouble telling dream from reality at the best of times, felt cast adrift by this vision. She wasn't merely seeing it, but inside it. It didn't replace the world around her so much as overlap it, blending different layers of reality that were never supposed to touch. She couldn't quite remember which was which. Everything was confusion. She didn't know where she was, or what was happening, or where she was supposed to be.

But she did know what she was seeing, more or less. She saw the witch, more powerful than ever. She saw her destroying the world, tearing everything down. She couldn't see why. All she could see was the beautiful witch before her. She looked into those black eyes, like pools of water under the night sky, and reached to touch the witch. She almost thought she might feel her, but her searching fingers met only empty air. The vision dissipated like smoke fading in the breeze.

Drusilla looked around, trying to remember where she was. The room looked unfamiliar to her for a moment. For some reason she had expected to see the town house she had shared with Spike during their trip to Prague. That had been a very nice trip, other than the angry mob bit at the end... that had been quite unpleasant. As she realised where and when she was now, she almost wished she was back there. She hadn't been alone then. Spike had taken care of her. He'd comforted her when she had her visions, or when the memories of her past became too much for her. But there was no one to comfort her now. Now one to remind her where she was, or tell her she was safe when forgot. She walked to the window and looked out over the city.

The city sparkled at night, lit up from below by myriad electric lights. But they drowned out the stars. Drusilla looked up at the almost-empty sky. The few stars she could see were whispering, muffled. She remembered when she had tried to name them, back when she was still with Spike. She wondered where Spike was now. Still in Sunnydale, lusting after that Slayer? That was where she had left him. And Darla? Drusilla knew what had happened to Darla, and she certainly wasn't where Drusilla had left her. She was gone again, back to dust. She hadn't even given Drusilla a chance to say goodbye to her.

Drusilla didn't really know what she was doing here. After Darla had left her, she had thought of going to Europe again, perhaps back to England. But she had come here, to the City of Angels. It was the only place she could come where she would be close to any sort of family. Angel was here, although Drusilla wouldn't dare to let him know that she was. He'd probably stake her as soon as she saw her if she was looking. He might set her on fire again. Who knew?

There was nothing here for her. She knew that. And now that she had seen the dream of the pretty witch, she knew where she could go. If her old family had abandoned her, she would make a new one for herself. She was going to see the witch.

* * *

The crypt door burst open.

"Buffy? That you?" he called from his chair without turning, a hopeful note in his voice. When someone stormed into his crypt, it was usually her. Wouldn't usually be a demon—they knew he could hurt them, and weren't quite as willing to piss him off as Buffy and her chums.

But this wasn't Buffy; he knew that even without looking. He had her scent committed to memory. He'd used to fool himself into thinking that was some predatory thing, but he'd quit trying to convince himself of that aeons ago. Well, a year ago. Felt more like aeons.

He turned around, surprised to see his sire standing there in the doorway, deadly beautiful as ever. Clad in a black and red dress, like blood and fire brought to life in the candlelit shadows of the crypt. She began walking towards him. The sight of her stole his breath. Well, it would have, had he breath to steal.

"What are you doing here, Dru?"

She moved towards him, black and red dress swirling as she walked, bare feet silent on the stone floor. Spike looked at her face, like stone itself. Hard to read. She was like a ghost from the past, come to him to exact some vengeance. Of course, that wasn't really why she was here. He hoped.

"I can come and go where I please," Drusilla said.

"But you said last time... er, what was it… Even you couldn't help me now?"

"It's not you I'm here for, dear William." She reached out to touch his face, her fingers lightly brushing his cheek and then settling again at her side. "You have a different role now," she said. A smile spread across her face. "I'm here for the witch."

"The witch... Take it you mean Willow. What d'you wanna see her for? There a spell that needs doing or something?"

Drusilla shook her head. "She's in danger. Putting the whole world at risk. I saw it," she said. Her eyes widened, lit up by her thoughts. "Such a pretty catastrophe, everything burning, crumbling to dust."

"What, Willow's going off the deep end now, with all the magic? Figured as much really. Makes sense, what with the way she's been going recently. With her bringing Buffy back from the dead and everything. That's pretty dark stuff." He stopped talking for a minute. "You want anything? Some blood, maybe? Got plenty in the fridge."

"You think I want the blood of swine?" The look on Drusilla's said everything about what she thought about that idea. She looked faintly sick at the thought, and Spike didn't blame her. Even he hated pig's blood. One of the better types of animal blood, but couldn't come close to being compared with the real thing. Warm, human blood, flowing straight out of the vein, his teeth tearing through flesh... That thought didn't do any good. Unless he got this sodding chip out of his head, he'd never be able to feel that again.

"No, of course not. You're still killing humans," he said.

"So would you be, if you could."

"Yeah, I know," he said, frowning. Of course he would be. He'd dreamed about it often enough. So why was he surprised? "So, if you came here for the witch, what are you in my crypt for? Cause, let me tell you, Willow isn't exactly here often."

"I thought it might be nice to see how you were."

"So… what, you just came here to say hi?"

Drusilla tilted her head. "I suppose," she said. She looked over at the T.V, which was still turned on, though Spike had never been paying attention to it in the first place. "What are you watching?"

"Nothing," Spike said. He got up and turned the TV off. It was pointless to leave it on now, when he wasn't even watching it. Just wasting electric. Not that he cared, since he wasn't paying a bill to start with. Didn't care about the environment either, soulless monster as he was. In fact, he thought the whole global warming thing was a bit funny himself—humans bringing forth their own destruction and all that. But he turned it off anyway. All the noise made it hard to focus.

"You're thinking of her. The Slayer," Drusilla said, hissing the title like it was an insult.

Spike looked away. He didn't want to tell her what he was thinking, though of course she knew already. It was Dru, after all. She knew what people were thinking, thanks to those little psychic gifts of hers. Him most of all—he was sure she didn't even need to read his mind. He was already an open book to her. "What about it?"

"Nothing," Drusilla said. Spike frowned. After the last time they had seen each other, he could hardly bear to look at her. They had belonged to each other for so long, been their very worlds, but last year he'd threatened to kill her. Had seemed like a good idea at the time, somehow. Kill the love of his unlife, impress the Slayer. But she hadn't even understood what it meant. And with Drusilla standing here now, no Slayer in sight, it seemed unbelievable. Had it really been only four years that they'd been apart? It felt like a lifetime...

He reached out to her, ready to embrace her. He leaned in close, inhaling the scent of her, never forgotten. Everything about her here filled with longing and desire. He went to touch her, but she slapped him away, her eyes aflame.

"Hands off!" she said. "You're not mine. Not anymore. Don't pretend. I don't want you to pretend."

"I'm not pretending," Spike whispered, and thought he meant it.

"Oh, you are. Not mine anymore, Spike. Your thoughts all belong to her."

He wanted to argue. Wanted to say that his thoughts were his own, that no other person could own them. But he could sense the truth in her words. He had loved Drusilla. Still did. But now he loved Buffy, and now it was Buffy who was always on his mind. Stealing it from him, every waking second. Bloody hell, every _sleeping_ second even!

And Drusilla didn't seem to mind. She wasn't angry. If anything, she looked sad, pitying. It hurt him to see her look at him like that. She used to always look at him with such passion, whether it be in love, lust or rage. But the soft sadness in her expression now… It tore his heart up.

"My thoughts might be hers, but that doesn't make much difference right now."

Drusilla shook her head. "Something will change and you'll be even more hers. You'll never be the same as you were."

"Yeah? That last bit's probably right," Spike said. "So where are you going next? Find the witch? She won't be pleased to see you."

"Not time yet," Drusilla said. "But it will be soon. And I'll have a new family."

"A new family?"

"Yes. A new one. You all left me. Angelus got a soul. You're in love with the Slayer. Darla…"

"What happened to Darla?" Spike asked. "You were together a while ago, weren't you? Where'd she go?"

"She left me. She didn't tell me why. She thinks I don't know, but I do. It was for the child, the one of dreams and prophecies. She didn't want it. Why should it have been hers? I might have liked one for myself, but the stars didn't want it to be so. She found out about it and left me, but then it was her downfall. She's gone now, dust in still air."

"What are you talking about, Dru?"

"I already said, didn't I?"

"Not in a way that makes a lot of sense, no."

Drusilla cocked her head, a strange look in her eyes. She took a few moments to think before speaking again. "It made lots of sense. She was going to be a mother, but didn't tell me. She didn't want me to know she was hurting."

"Pfft. Yeah, that sounds like her. Who'd she sire this time then? Some idiot to take Angelus's place?" Spike asked.

"No. She didn't sire anyone."

"But you said she was going to be a mother. What else would you mean? Never mind. So you said you were here to see Willow?"

"Yes. She needs help. Her soul is calling to the darkness, and I will answer," Drusilla said.

She turned away and strode towards the door, her skirts swishing around her legs as she walked. She paused, one hand on the handle of the crypt's inner door. "Goodbye, my William," she said before leaving. The door closed behind her, and she was gone.

Spike was alone again. Seemed like that happened a lot. He sighed, and sat back down on the chair, grabbing the remote as he did so. Guess it was time for some more rubbish telly.

* * *

Willow missed Tara. She didn't know why she'd had to leave. Well, okay, she knew. Tara had told her that she was worried about the magic, and that she couldn't trust her. She just couldn't quite understand. Understanding things was hard. She looked over at Amy, in her cage. She was chewing the bars again, as bored and lonely as Willow felt. Tara had told Willow she should get another rat friend for her, but Willow didn't think that was such a good idea. She didn't know how a real rat would respond to Amy, or how Amy would respond to a real rat. She thought it was better just to leave her alone.

A knock on the door startled Willow from her reverie.

"Willow?" called a voice from the other side. "Can I come in?"

"Sure."

Buffy opened the door and walked in. "Hey, Will," she said, still standing awkwardly in the doorway. Willow wondered why she wasn't just coming in properly. Did she think she'd bite? Did she agree with Tara, that her magic was dangerous? Willow didn't think so. Not really. Yeah, so the forces she commanded sometimes were super-powerful, but she _commanded_ them. She had control. Or she thought she did. And she'd managed to cast that back-from-the-dead spell without anything really bad happening. Although she had ripped her friend out of Heaven and made her claw her way out of her own grave…

Willow blinked. She'd really spaced out there, hadn't she? She put a smile on her face, though even without seeing, she knew it wouldn't reach her eyes... "Hey Buffy," she said. "Why are you standing over there, come sit down."

Buffy walked over and sat beside Willow. It still felt like they were miles away.

"What did you come here for?" Willow asked.

"I just… kinda wanted to make sure you were okay. You know, with everything that happened with you and Tara. I wanted to make sure you weren't too depressed," Buffy said.

"Well, I'm okay. So you can stop worrying," Willow told her.

Buffy didn't seem convinced, and Willow wasn't surprised. Buffy was her closest friend, there was no way she could fool her. But she didn't say anything. It looked like she was feeling pretty bad herself, Willow thought. Still, she didn't say anything. What was it she needed to say but couldn't? Willow didn't know. She couldn't properly know what Buffy was feeling these days, which was bad. They'd been such close friends, but ever since Buffy had come back, she didn't seem to trust Willow as well as she'd used to. She didn't seem to trust anyone as much, except maybe Giles, who hadn't been involved in bringing her back. But now Giles had gone back to England. Willow could try to imagine what Buffy was feeling, but she was sure it would do no good. All she knew was what she herself felt, which wasn't really that great.

They sat in silence for a while. Both of them had things they wanted to say, Willow was sure of that. But the courage to say them... maybe that was what was missing. But why should they need courage to confide in each other, when they'd known each other for so long? Courage was the last thing they should need around each other.

"I saw Tara earlier," Buffy said at last.

Willow looked up at her. "Really? What did she say? Did you talk to her? Did she say anything about me?"

"Not really. We kind of just said hi. I only saw her for a few seconds when I was leaving the training room to go patrol. She'd just gone to the Magic Box to get some supplies or whatever."

"How was she?" Willow asked.

"Uh... I guess she seemed okay? It's kind of hard for me to say. Like I said, we didn't really talk for long. It's not like we stood around chatting for a half hour or anything. But I think she was okay."

The quiet came back, like a shroud separating them. Willow shifted nervously where she sat.

"So, you said you went patrolling. Anything interesting happen? Run into any scary demons?"

"No, it was a pretty slow night. Staked a couple of newly-risen vamps and saw... nothing much." Buffy said. Willow thought she'd been about to say something else, but she didn't know what. It couldn't be anything important though, or she'd tell her. "I guess I'll go now," Buffy said.

"Okay," Willow said. She wanted to tell her to stay, to make her feel better, but it would do no good. What was the point in asking her to stay when they weren't even speaking to each other anyway? Buffy got up and left, and Willow lay back on her bed.

There was a cool breeze coming through the window, and she shivered. She got up to close it. As she did so, she thought she saw someone, in the corner of her eye. A woman standing outside, clutching a doll to her side, with dark hair blowing gently in the breeze. When Willow looked again, she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A Dark Vision**_

 _Chapter Two: Meeting_

* * *

When Willow left the Summers' house, the orange sunlight was streaking across the sky, quickly fading, like a dream. The Magic Box was closed now. Willow had meant to leave earlier, but she'd been late at college, and had needed to go back to the house to get some things. By the time she was done, it was getting late already. By the time she reached the Magic Box, it would be full dark. It wasn't a good idea to be outside after dark in Sunnydale. Not that it was that much of a problem for Willow. She may not be a Slayer, but she was a powerful witch who could fight demons with the best of them. Still, the thought of being out so late here alone... it wasn't a good thought.

She felt a little bad for being about to take stuff. But she was sure Anya wouldn't mind. Well, maybe be would, she loved money more than people. But she could pay her back. Eventually. She walked into the shop and froze.

Since it was long after closing time, Willow had expected that she would be the only one there. But there was someone else A dark-haired woman in a white dress was browsing the shelves, whispering to a blindfolded doll. Even a quick glance told Willow that this woman was a vampire. She seemed familiar, but Willow didn't think she'd seen her before. Except... that person she'd thought she'd seen last night, in the backyard of the house. She'd only caught sight of her for a moment, but Willow thought this might be her. Had she followed her here? Willow couldn't think why she would have followed her to the Magic Box, or why she had been watching her, for that matter. Something here definitely seemed pretty fishy. She was humming something that sounded like a nursery rhyme, although in a minor key.

"Hello?" Willow called to her. She didn't know why her first instinct was to talk and not to stake, but she'd be fine. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to find you," she said. Something about her voice put a chill down Willow's spine. She didn't like this at all.

"What do you mean?"

The vampire turned to the doll in her arms, and began speaking to it. "The witch must be quite silly, mustn't she, Miss Edith? Surely she can tell what finding her means."

Willow sighed. She picked up a stake from one of the hiding-places around the store, and walked over to the vampire. She held up the stake, and was about to plunge it into the vampire's heart, but couldn't see her. She looked around, and came face-to-face with a pair of brilliant yellow eyes. Steel-strong arms around her held her still, crushing her close to the vampire's body. She could smell something metallic. She hoped it wasn't the blood she had been drinking, but saw no reason for it not to be.

"Now, now, little witch. Surely it's too early in the game to take the black queen already? And we've only just sat down. I shall be quite cross if you get things wrong," the vampire said. What was she talking about? She seemed to be speaking in metaphors or something, like she was crazy. Wait... crazy vampire. Where had she heard of one of them from? Suddenly, Willow realised why this vampire seemed familiar.

"Drusilla?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to see the end. But you're not ready yet, I can see that. Not quite time for the dark one yet. I'll have to wait a bit longer. But what will make it happen? I can't see what started it. Will it come, black-eyes? Can you see?" Drusilla asked the question earnestly, as if desperately needing the answer to comfort her. Willow didn't even know what she meant. She just knew that she didn't like being this close to a vampire who as far as she knew was one step away from biting her.

"Um, I don't know what you mean there at all," Willow said. "And hey, my eyes aren't black, they're hazel. And seriously, what the hell are you talking about? None of that makes any sense at all. And... Hey! Let me go! Wait, what am I doing? Fire!" Nothing happened. Drusilla didn't burst into flames like she was supposed to. She just stood there, unburnt. She began to laugh, a hyena-like, demented cackle. Willow's eyes widened. Her magic, she couldn't use her magic. What was going on?

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "Let me go, now!"

"Not so soon, my sweet. Do you get bored so soon? We haven't even begun yet. Will you walk with me?" Drusilla took Willow's hand in hers and started to walk. Willow couldn't do anything except follow her. Drusilla was far stronger than her, and without her magic, Willow could do nothing against a vampire, especially a vampire as powerful as Drusilla. She hadn't felt this powerless for a long time. But she could remember it. All those times she'd met vampires before she'd learnt any magic. She'd seen their victims, and it had filled her with terror. It was the feeling that had made her want to be strong, powerful. So she could be as terrifying to them as they were to her.

At least she wasn't so close to Drusilla now. At least she couldn't smell the blood anymore. That was a comfort, if a small one. She still had to stand beside her, listening to her mutter to her and to the doll, strange things about the stars and black-eyes deserting the light.

She didn't know where Drusilla was taking her, all of her mind focused on figuring out a way to get away from her. So she was somewhat surprised when they arrived at the Bronze. Had Drusilla seriously kidnapped her and stopped her using magic just to take her dancing? Well, she was insane, Willow supposed. Who knew what an insane vampire was going to do? A shiver went through her at the thought. She had no idea what was going to happen. Had Drusilla actually come here just to have a fun night? Or was her idea of a fun night more of the bloodsucking and torturing variety? And what did she want with Willow?

But Drusilla didn't answer any of her thoughts. Possibly because she hadn't actually said any of them aloud. Unless she had. Sometimes it could be a little tricky to remember whether she was just babbling in her head or not. And wasn't Drusilla psychic or something? Maybe she could hear her anyway.

Willow started to relax a little. They'd been in the Bronze for nearly twenty seconds and Drusilla hadn't killed anyone yet. Maybe she wasn't going to. It was doubtful, but it was possible, right? But maybe not. Maybe she was just waiting.

She took Willow's hand and led her to the dance-floor. She seemed to know the song, and moved to it like a snake being charmed by the music. Willow danced along with her, her movements clumsy, her mind still distracted. What the hell was happening here? So Drusilla really had taken her to the Bronze to dance. Why would she do that? Did she just think it was funny, or did she have a more nefarious scheme?

There was a break in the music. Drusilla leaned close to whisper in Willow's ear.

"Look at them," she said. "All those people. No idea what you could do. What we could do."

"What?" Willow asked her, whirling around to face her properly. "Why would I hurt anyone here?"

Drusilla looked affronted. "Didn't say anything about hurt. I just think it's funny. We could do anything we wanted, and they wouldn't even have to know."

"If you don't mean hurting them, then what do you mean?" Willow asked.

Drusilla sighed. She might have been about to speak, but the next song started up, and would have drowned out whatever words she was going to say. She started swaying to the song that played, an acoustic rock song with mournful vocals. She tried to sing, but her voice was monotone and creepy-sounding. Willow grabbed one of her writhing arms and pulled her gently towards the staircase. She had almost expected Drusilla to suddenly turn on her and try to rip her throat out, but she didn't. She followed behind Willow, as Willow had followed her from the Magic Box. They walked up the stairs to the balcony, where it was less crowded and a little quieter.

"If you don't mean hurting them, then what do you mean?" Willow asked again.

Drusilla stayed quiet for a moment, staring into empty space. Willow wondered what she was looking at. The music? She'd heard about people confusing senses. Or maybe one of those visions she was supposed to get. Or maybe she was just hallucinating. Willow couldn't really guess what was going on in her mind. She couldn't even tell what was going on in Buffy's mind recently, and she was her best friend. She'd only really met Drusilla today, and was really focusing more on trying not to get killed.

"You could make them dream. Make them see things. You could make them do whatever you wanted them to. You could have some fun with them, and they'd forget it all. They wouldn't know what you had done to them. You could show them your power. You wouldn't need to actually harm them."

"That sounds..." Willow thought for the right word. There were so many things that sounded. Enticing, like she could be the most powerful thing in the universe. "Wrong," she said at last. She knew it, she knew that was true. It was what Tara would say. That she shouldn't use magic so much, that she shouldn't violate people's free will.

But Tara wasn't here now. Drusilla was here. And somehow Willow knew that Drusilla wouldn't care about those things at all. She had a completely different moral compass compared to normal people. In fact, Willow didn't think she even _had_ a moral compass. That was what a vampire was, after all. They didn't have souls. As far as she knew, that was exactly what a soul was. And Drusilla was insane. Even if she did have a soul, she probably wouldn't have a normal moral compass.

"Wrong for what?" Drusilla asked, her head tilted. Like a magpie who had found a worm.

"No, not wrong _for_ anything, just... wrong. Like, bad. We shouldn't do it."

"Shouldn't? Shouldn't why? Will something hurt us?"

"No. Of course not. I don't think I can explain this to you. You're a vampire. Vampires don't get these things." Neither did she, sometimes. Not as much as Tara. Tara was the best person she knew. She guessed that was why she'd left her. She looked down, away from Drusilla. She didn't want an evil vampire to see the look on her face as she thought about Tara, though she didn't think it would do much good with this one. She missed Tara so much.

"Why do you assume so readily that I don't understand? You haven't even tried to explain properly yet," Drusilla said. She looked into Willow's eyes, brushing some of her hair away from them.

"I know you can't understand. Spike doesn't. And I pretty sure Angelus didn't. You don't have a soul. You need a soul for it."

"Do I? Does a soul truly mean so much? If it does, then I don't know why all those humans keep killing each other, with their precious souls."

What was Drusilla saying? Willow felt certain that she was trying to convince her to do something, but couldn't actually guess what it was. Was she just talking to her? That couldn't be all. There was something else to this. What she'd been saying a minute ago... about the magic.

"Drusilla... what did you bring me here for? Tell me why you wanted to come here. Tell me properly."

Drusilla frowned. "I wanted to see you. To see what you could do. To live in dreams, like I always do. Make them do it. It would be so funny. Angelus would certainly think so. Because that was what he did, after all, isn't it? He stopped me thinking clearly. Why should we not do the same to them?"

"You want me to drive everyone insane?"

Drusilla shook her head rapidly. "No, that's not it. I don't need you to hurt them. I just want us to have some fun. Magic, remember? Make them have magical dreams."

That sounded a little clearer. Drusilla wanted her to cast spells on people. But she wasn't saying exactly what she wanted her to do. Show them what she could do? That could mean anything. And dreams? She couldn't tell whether Drusilla was being literal or not. She wasn't sure if even Drusilla could tell whether she was being literal or not. She just said things, hardly knowing what she meant herself. Willow remembered when Tara had been insane, when Glory had done that mind-draining thing. She'd been hard to understand, but she also didn't understand things herself. Perhaps Drusilla was like that. Only... it was all the time. And there was nothing anyone could do to make it better. Willow couldn't even imagine what that was like. She only knew that it must be really hard to deal with.

"Magic, huh? That sounds like fun," Willow said.

And it was. She let herself give in to the power she knew she had. The magic coursed through her, electrifying. She didn't know why she was doing this, and shouldn't she be staking Drusilla? But she didn't want to stop casting spells and she didn't want Drusilla to go away. It was good to have someone around who actually encouraged her magic for once. Everyone else was always telling her she was going to get someone hurt or whatever, that she didn't have enough control. But Willow could control everything. It was like everything around her was just a toy for her to play with.

But she didn't even know what she was doing. And where had Drusilla gone? Willow tried to look around for her, tried to find her, but she was nowhere. Willow moved through the crowd like a storm, looking at everyone's faces, but none belonged to Drusilla. No one seemed to mind that Willow was bothering them, affected by the magic. They were all in a trance, as Willow herself had been. Her heart was pounding. She climbed back up to the balcony—when had she even left?—and looked around over the whole crowd.

She tried to use her magic, the same spell she had used to try finding Dawn, but it was like she didn't have enough focus, or else she'd tired herself out too much with all the other magic. But she knew it wouldn't do any good anyway. Willow had met a vampire and instead of staking her there and then, she gone dancing with her and then let her get away. Why had that happened?

Willow sighed. She didn't want this now. This magic, this place. She wanted to get home. That was all she wanted. She dispelled the magic and then pushed her way

* * *

Spike watched her as she fought, lithe and strong, the most beautiful thing in the world. She fought his kind like a hurricane, destroying all. But she didn't kill them quickly, not today. She was drawing it out, enjoying the fight, using it to take away her own pain. He was standing outside his crypt, leaning against the door and smoking a cigarette. Buffy hadn't noticed him so far. She was here a lot these days, patrolling the cemetery. He wondered why. Yeah, she was patrolling, obviously, but there were countless cemeteries in Sunnydale. So why did she choose to come here, night after night? He smiled. She was close now, not seeming to have noticed where she'd ended up.

"Havin' fun, pet?" he called out.

She turned to him, just done staking some newly-turned vamp. He crumbled to dust before them both, screaming his last. "When are you going to stop talking to me?" Buffy asked, her tone annoyed on the surface, but with something underneath. Something he could hope might be desire, but might just be hatred. Who could really tell with her?

He cocked his head, an imitation of deep thought. "Hm, I dunno. Maybe when you stop replying?"

"Maybe I should," Buffy said. "If it would stop you going after me like a lost puppy. What are you doing here?"

Spike raised an eyebrow at her. "Not sure if you've noticed, pet, but I _live_ here. In this crypt, right behind me, see?" He turned back and gestured to it. "That's my house you know, or where I live at any rate. Now the real question is, what are _you_ doing here?"

"And why exactly are you not inside it?" Buffy asked, focusing on his earlier statement rather than the question he had asked her.

"Got me there, I guess. Just thought I'd come out for a bit of fresh air, you know?" He walked over to her, leaned in right close to her face. So close her could feel the tickle of her fly-away hairs. So close he could hear her heart speed up as he got nearer. "Or maybe cause I thought I'd see you."

He'd gone too far then, he knew he had. She was going to turn around and leave. But by some miracle, she stayed put. Folded her arms and looked right cross at him, but she stayed put.

"Spike..." she whispered, her head tilting slightly to reveal a little more of her neck. Then she punched him hard in the gut, causing him to stumble, and pushed him back, putting distance between them. Strange it had taken her as long as it had. He'd have thought she'd have pushed him away from her a bit earlier, what with how disgusted by him she claimed to be. "When is this stupid obsession of yours going to end?"

"It's not—" he started. But he stopped the protest before it really started, and scoffed. "An obsession, really? That's all you think it is?"

"That _is_ all it is. You can't love, you don't have a soul." So she was back to that again.

"Didn't seem too bothered about that when you kissed me," he said.

An emotion crossed over Buffy's face. It could have been anything—anger, regret, longing. Even Spike couldn't guess, and he could usually tell more or less what a person was feeling. But lately, Buffy was a complete mystery. "That was once. Just once," she said.

"Twice."

"Whatever. It was enough. It won't happen again." She looked at him for a moment longer, like there might be something else she wanted to say. Then she turned away, finally leaving. Spike didn't dare try to call after her. For all he pushed his luck sometimes, he could tell she was pissed off now. Might do well not to make her even more mad.

He stood still, staring after her for a minute or two as she walked. She didn't look back. He growled and turned around, throwing open the doors to his crypt and going right to the fridge. He wasn't sure what the point of storming off was when she wasn't even looking at him, and wouldn't even care if she had been. Didn't matter, he supposed. He got some blood from the fridge, then sat down in front of the telly. Wasn't anything on, so far as he knew, but at least he could flick through the channels as a distraction, so his thoughts wouldn't be nearly so consumed with her. Hopefully.

But it hadn't worked last time, and it was no better now.

* * *

By the time Willow got back to the Summers house, it was so late it was early. The sky had stopped being pale and grey half an hour ago, and it was dawn, bright and red in the sky. She had hoped she'd be alone when she got back. She had hoped to be able to sneak upstairs and get her stuff for college without anyone noticing she'd been gone. Hoping didn't help.

As she walked inside, two people turned to look at her. Buffy and Dawn were at the table. Tara's absence still stood out to Willow. She wished she was still here. She wished she could comfort her and tell her she hadn't messed up too badly. She wished she could just lie in her arms. Of course, Tara wouldn't forgive her so easily even if she was here. But it was nice to think of everything being perfect. Her dreams were better than life.

Willow wondered what Dawn was doing up so early. Then she saw the time on the microwave, and realised it wasn't as early as she'd thought. Of course Dawn would already be up getting ready for school—she had to leave in a quarter of an hour.

"Hey guys," Willow said, wandering over to the cupboards to get some cereal. She couldn't be bothered to make any real food. She felt sick to her stomach, but she was starving too.

"Hey," Buffy said. Her face was so blank Willow couldn't tell if she was worried about her, judging her or just didn't care. Maybe she was thinking about something else entirely. "Where've you been?"

"Um, out. I was at the Bronze." She didn't dare say who with. She didn't dare say what they'd done. She just left it at that. "How about you? Uh, did you do anything interesting?"

Buffy shrugged. "Same as usual," she said. Willow knew that wasn't true at all. But she'd feel hypocritical trying to get Buffy to tell the truth when she was lying as well.

She walked upstairs and collapsed on her bed.

She felt exhausted. Last night had been a terrible idea. It wasn't even her terrible idea. It was Drusilla's. So she should blame Drusilla. If Drusilla hadn't been there she wouldn't have started using magic again. Except that wasn't true. She'd been planning to do another spell anyway, that's why she'd gone to the Magic Box. But that had just been a little one. What they'd done... that was big. It was messing with free will stuff. But it wasn't like anyone had got hurt or anything. It couldn't be any worse than what she'd done at the Bronze at Halloween. Which Tara had been annoyed at. And had actually been she'd been doing with Drusilla... that was just to blow off some steam, have some fun. No one had got hurt, but it was still reckless. And Willow hadn't been able to stop herself.

* * *

 **Author's note:** **So, managed to get chapter two up in time. Didn't edit it as much as I'd like, but I have lots of coursework to do still. But I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!**

 **PS: gave relationship tag things. To be honest, not really sure if this will end up being Willow/Dru instead of Willow and Dru yet, but it does mostly focus on them anyway, so whatever. If it becomes clear it's just going to be Willow and Dru, I'll change it back.**


	3. Chapter 3

**_A Dark Vision_**

 _Chapter Three_

* * *

Buffy sat eating a bag of chips, staring inattentively at the TV. The news was on. It was boring, but at least the white noise kept her from distracting herself with thoughts. Kept her from feeling like the whole world was fake. She heard something, and turned the volume up. This sounded interesting. A diamond had been stolen from the museum last night, and the only guard on duty had been found frozen solid. Definitely something supernatural-sounding. Some kind of demon maybe. Maybe Buffy could kill it, that would make her feel better. But why would they be stealing diamonds? For the value? Or maybe they ate them. She couldn't know. But it was something worth checking out anyway. It had been a while since something that interesting had happened.

She finished off the bag of chips she'd been eating and threw the empty packet into the bin. She called goodbye to Dawn, then put her coat on and left the house to patrol. It was getting colder. Not really cold though, it never really got cold in Sunnydale. They had pretty nice weather. One of the few things that was actually good about the town. Hey, this town's built on a Hellmouth, but at least the weathers good, right? What a way to promote a place.

She arrived in the cemetery just after sunset. No vamps around so far. Shame. She was really looking forward to a good fight. Not that she'd get a particularly good fight from some newly-risen vampire. Maybe that ice-demon thing that was freezing people. That could be something. If it even existed, and it wasn't something else.

The sound of moving earth distracted her and she leapt for the grave, stake in her hand. The vampire struggled to his feet, still covered in grave-dirt. He lunged at Buffy with a growl and she spun out of the way, then kicked him in the back, knocking him over onto his own tombstone. She waited for him to get up and as he tried to grab her, she punched him in the face. She saw blood on her hand, and didn't care whose it was. She kept hitting. After a while the vamp's angry growls became whimpers, and she threw him to the ground, then brought the stake up and plunged into into his chest.

What had she been doing? It was her job to stake vampires, but she hadn't needed to beat him to a bloody pulp first. That could get her killed. She brushed dirt off her clothes, though she wasn't sure it did much good. She noticed the bloodstain on her right hand. There was no cut, so she guessed it was the vampire's blood. And it was already dried, so she was going to have to wait until she got home before she could wash it off. Great. She looked around. Spike was standing outside his crypt again.

"Is there really nothing better for you to do than stand there watching me slay? 'Cause come on, it's getting pretty old now. This is the second night in a row."

Spike shrugged. "Not my fault you keep slaying vampires outside my house, is it?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. She would point out that he should be inside, but she'd already said that last night. Truth be told, she wasn't that annoyed. At least there was someone to talk to who wasn't her friend. Who didn't expect her to be perfectly fine after being ripped out of heaven. But it was a bit of a downside that he thought he was in love with her and wouldn't leave her alone. Although... he kinda had a point about her ending up out here. There were other cemeteries, and even other parts of this same one. Why _was_ she here?

"I saw something interesting on the news earlier," she said. What was she doing? Trying to start a conversation with Spike? At least it was a slightly safer way to pass time than beating up random vampires.

"Did you now?" Spike said, scarred eyebrow arched. "What was that, then? Something demon-related?"

"Maybe. It was something about people being frozen. You know anything about it?" she asked him. She knew he wouldn't. Spike didn't really have all that many demon contacts these days, other than those he played kitten poker with. And they weren't particularly evil. Most demons hated Spike now, especially other vampires. They didn't like that he killed their kind. And humans didn't like the fact that he'd be killing their kind if he could. No one really liked him at all.

"Can't say I do. Might let you know if I find out anything though," he said.

"And you'd find that out how, by playing kitten poker?"

"So what if I did? What's your problem with kitten poker?"

"It's tacky! And—kittens! Willow and Tara would probably kill you if they found out."

Spike laughed at that. "Willow, I'll grant you, but I can't imagine Tara would ever kill anyone. Although she might just stand by and let Red kill me, and that's almost as bad really, innit?"

"Hey, if you think Tara's so nice, why not Willow?" Buffy asked.

"Have you met her? Sure, she's nice enough most of the time, but she's got an anger in her. A lust for power. Wouldn't take all that much to push her too far."

Buffy wasn't sure she agreed with that. Actually, she definitely didn't. He had to be wrong, completely and utterly wrong. Willow wasn't evil. Sure, there was that magic thing that had been going on lately. But she had that under control now. And it wasn't like she'd actually hurt anyone. She'd only been trying to help. Except... not always. Buffy remembered when she'd gone after Glory. Glory wasn't a good person, and there were definitely circumstances, but that had still been motivated by pure rage. A need for vengeance. What did it mean that Willow could be so vengeful?

"You're wrong," she whispered, trying to convince herself as much as Spike. Neither of them were fooled.

Spike smirked. "You think? Who's to say she's not going to suddenly go evil one of these days? She could be the next big bad."

"You're wrong!" Buffy cried. She punched him in the face, and he didn't even try to dodge. Just stood there and took it, stupid smirk still on his face. Then he struck back, a light punch, but still one that connected. He looked startled at himself, and his reaction to the chip's shock was delayed. He just stood there staring at her in wonder for a moment before clutching his head in pain.

"Ow!" he said.

Yeah, well. It served him right. He did hit her. Why shouldn't he feel pain? Although she had hit him first. She turned and walked away. There was no reason to stay there with him. No reason at all. Talking to Spike was not a good way to pass time at all. Her steps got faster, carrying her away from him. She looked back for a moment, but he was gone. Back to his crypt, she guessed. Where else did he have to go?

Where else did she have to go?

* * *

Spike left the the geek gang's lair in a dark mood. If what Warren said was right, there was nothing wrong with the chip. And yet, when he'd hit Buffy, he'd felt fine. Chip hadn't fired. Only one thing that could mean: there was something wrong with her. She'd come back wrong. No surprise really. Resurrection magic was powerful stuff, easy to fuck up, even for someone like Willow. That she managed to do as well as she had was an utter miracle. Whatever had gone wrong, the chip thought the Slayer was a demon now. Like him.

He walked down the street. He had somewhere he wanted to go. Needed to. He had to see her again. Now that he knew the game had changed. He wondered what she would do about it. Would she beat him down? Finally stake him? She might even just let him be, even though he could hurt her now. Even though he was a danger again, if only to her. He wondered what that would change, if it would change anything at all. Guessed he was about to find out.

His crypt was dark when he got back. He hadn't bothered to light all the candles earlier when he'd left to see Buffy. He'd meant to only be gone a minute or two, but then the chip had seemed to stop working, so he'd gone to see Warren. He was lucky no one had trashed the place. No, everything was still right where he'd left it, in perfect condition. Almost seemed wrong, that this place remained the same when so much had changed. Not that he was complaining. He got some blood from the fridge and drank it straight down from the bag without heating it up. Disgusting. Cold, dead, half-congealed pig blood. He imagined what it would be like to really be able to bite again. Now he could. He could bite Buffy. He'd been dreaming of that moment for so long, and now it could happen... he didn't want it. Not that the experience wouldn't be pleasurable. Killing a Slayer was a rush like no other, the warmth of the blood, the taste of it... he remembered that Chinese Slayer. That had been the best night of his life.

But he couldn't kill Buffy. He wanted to. But if he did, Buffy would be dead. The last time she had died, he'd hardly been able to cope. Only reason he hadn't walked into the sun was because he'd promised he'd look after Dawn. As much as he wanted to bite her, to kill her even, he didn't want her to die. He didn't want to live without her. He didn't want _the world_ to live without her. Nothing had changed. So he could hurt Buffy now—why would he? What would he do? He didn't want to hurt her. As much as he'd dreamed of it before he'd got the chip, after even, he didn't want to hurt her now. Nothing could be worse to him. Their was nothing he wouldn't sacrifice for Buffy—himself, his sire, the whole bloody world. Anything for her. How could he hurt her?

But that didn't mean nothing had changed at all. Something had to. There was something different about _her._ Had to be for the chip to stop working on her like that. If she'd been exactly as she should be, it would work just like normal. For it not to work, there had to be something in her that wasn't quite human. After all, it was only demons the chip didn't work on. So Buffy must have come back part demon, and that changed everything. That was why she didn't hate as much anymore, why she'd kissed those two times. Why she was having so much trouble adjusting. Whatever had happened in that spell, Buffy wasn't entirely human anymore. Spike smiled.

Everything had changed.

* * *

Drusilla smiled from the shadows, watching the girl with the blood-coloured hair with fascination. She was wearing a black coat. Nice and fitting for a dark witch, but not this one. Willow. She should be all in colour, bright like spring. That was how she'd used to be. But she was trying to change, be something she wasn't. It was all wrong, not right, not right at all. Not what the witch wanted, and not what Drusilla wanted. Not right at all.

The group was gathered in the store. They were talking in strange words. Drusilla thought she heard something about a frost monster who ate diamonds, but that just couldn't be right—all of them had died. She'd seen it. Or had had that been a dream? Dreams and visions were so hard to separate sometimes. But she knew the vision of the witch hadn't been a dream. She could see her there before her, standing out from the others like a ember in coal. Drusilla could feel her power; it called to her like a beacon. A light in black, her brightness harsh, but Drusilla couldn't turn away.

Drusilla waited. She couldn't show her face before the others—she'd be staked if they were feeling merciful. And then where would she be? Her plans couldn't work if she died too early. She had to keep on, for the time being at least. She couldn't let the Slayer get her. Couldn't let her get the little witch either. Not that she would. Slayer didn't know what was in store for them. It was funny how she was so blind. The Slayer was getting a phone call, then left. The others didn't remain long after her. Drusilla made sure she was out of sight as the last two left, leaving only the witch. Willow.

Drusilla watched as the witch gathered her things and got ready to leave. She was the last out. Drusilla followed her, melting from the shadows like liquid. Willow didn't know she was there at first. She was too busy in her own head, worrying about whatever it was worried her. But as she crossed a road a while later, she looked over her shoulder, and Drusilla knew she had seen her.

"What do you want?" She wasn't afraid, as she had been the last time Drusilla had seen her. She simply sounded tired.

"Do not you want to come and play with me?" Drusilla asked her.

"No. Not again. I just wanna go home now." Willow started walking again. Drusilla was surprised she felt comfortable enough to turn her back on her. Perhaps she had been spending too long near Spike, who was nearly harmless now. Drusilla wasn't harmless. She wouldn't harm Willow, but Willow wouldn't know that.

"Why are you leaving?" Drusilla asked. "Did you not enjoy yourself last night?"

Willow stopped in her tracks. She wasn't facing Drusilla, so she couldn't see her face. Couldn't guess what she was feeling. When she spoke, her voice was too even. Drusilla would have been afraid if she'd been anyone else, but she knew she could be almost as frightening herself. "It's not that. I just... I can't let this get further. Tara had been warning me about the magic, and I think she was right. I _am_ using too much magic. And with you, last night, that obviously wasn't helping. So you can just... leave me alone now."

It hurt to hear those words. Drusilla didn't like being abandoned, and she didn't like being left alone. There was no one else here for her now. But Willow didn't care, did she? She couldn't see yet. Drusilla remembered the vision she'd had. Black eyes... When would she arrive? Would it take too long? What had to happen? She didn't even know. Why couldn't the vision have told her things like this? They never told her anything, never made any sense. All she had was pretty pictures of death and destruction. So beautiful, so horrible, but never meant anything to her. So hard to read. Drusilla had trouble understanding the simplest things sometimes—how could she understand the visions? But she knew something was wrong.

"All right," she said. "I shall go home. I'll come back when you're ready."

"Ready for what? To go all evil witch and start killing people with you? That's not going to happen," Willow said.

Drusilla laughed. Willow didn't know at all, did she? She couldn't see, like how Drusilla had seen. She knew what would happen. She just didn't know exactly how yet. "Go home, witch. I'll come for you when you need me." Drusilla turned away from Willow and began to walk away. She didn't want to leave Willow yet, but she needed to. She didn't want her yet. There was no reason to be there when she wasn't wanted. But she would be soon enough, she knew that. And then, Drusilla would come for her, and she would have family again. They would be a force to be reckoned with, and kill everyone in their way. They would end the world.

* * *

Willow watched Drusilla leave. She didn't want to turn her back, didn't want to risk Drusilla turning back and killing her. She didn't seem to want to, but Willow really didn't trust her. She could never trust her. She was a soulless, insane vampire. And she should stake her now. Bu instead she watched her retreat until she was gone, in the distance, away from her. She stood still a few moments more, making sure Drusilla wouldn't turn back. And then she carried on home.

Willow knew she should tell someone about Drusilla. Why hadn't she? It had been at least a few days since they'd been at the Bronze together, but Willow hadn't breathed a word about it to anyone. It was important information for such a powerful vampire to be back here, so why was she keeping it to herself? She hadn't even tried to tell Tara, even though it would be a good excuse to talk to her. And Willow wanted to see Tara so much. But she knew she couldn't. Tara had left, and it would be a while before Willow was ready to see her again. She needed to get her magic under control first. But if she needed that so much, why hadn't she?

She got home and went straight to her room. The room she'd shared with Tara. Everything made Willow think of her, reminded her that she wasn't here. That she was alone. Even when she was with Buffy or Dawn, or they were all together at the Magic Box, she still felt alone. Except when she was with Drusilla. Then she could ignore it, if only because she was too worried about her throat being torn out to think about being lonely.

She didn't like this feeling much. She cast a spell to clear her head. Much better. She knew she shouldn't be doing it, and momentarily felt a pang of guilt when she thought about what Tara would think. She shouldn't be using so much magic. But Tara wasn't here. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, right?


	4. Chapter 4

**_A Dark Vision_**

 _Chapter Four_

* * *

Buffy was pissed when she got the call. Why was Spike calling her like this? Had he got the impression that she was returning his feelings? She wasn't. He wasn't even her friend, and she knew she shouldn't be going. And yet… she wanted to. Part of her at least. Even if it was only so she could punch him in his stupid face again.

So she left the Magic Box, going to meet him. It wasn't like their research was going anywhere. The closest thing to their frost monster had been in a D&D manual. She needed to get out of there, and why was Spike so much of a worse idea than anywhere else? Other than him being an evil vampire who had tried to kill her and her friends on multiple occasions. And probably would again as soon as he got that chip out. Now that Buffy thought about it, this actually did sound like a pretty bad idea.

She arrived at the place he'd asked her to meet him. They were in an alley, outside a row of a few abandoned houses that looked about ready to fall apart.

"So you came then?" he asked. "Almost thought you weren't going to show."

"Why bother calling me if you didn't think I'd show?" Buffy asked.

Spike shrugged. "Had to try, didn't I? Anything's worth trying."

He walked closer to her, reaching to touch her. Buffy grabbed his wrist in mid-air, holding it still. He smiled back at her, showing teeth she knew could become lethal in a moment. Good thing he couldn't hurt her.

"What did you call me for?" Buffy asked him.

"Wanted to see you," he said, voice low. He wasn't quite whispering, and they weren't even standing that close, but somehow it felt like he was whispering in her ear. The sound of his voice, or maybe his words, made her shiver, and she wasn't sure why. "That, and… I got something to tell you."

"Something to tell me?" What was it this time? When Spike started saying things like that, it was never good.

"Well, I could tell you. Or I could show you."

Spike smirked, and twisted out of her grip, grabbing her own wrist with his right hand and punching her with his left. It didn't hurt much; Buffy fought vampires all the time, she was used to being hit. But Spike looked just as unfazed about it as she was. That was what scared her, just a little bit.

"The chip…" she began. "You got rid of the chip." How could he have done that? It shouldn't be possible. And yet, she could see it herself. He was just standing there with a smile on his face, instead of holding his head and crying out in pain. Something must have changed. It would usually be painful enough that he'd be frozen in agony, unable to continue the fight.

"Not the chip," he said. "Bloody thing's still right where those bastards left it. 'S not broken either. No, it's not the chip. It's you."

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What's it sound like? Chip's still working just fine, love. You're the one who's not. You came back wrong. Bit of demon in you maybe."

"I'm not a demon!" Buffy said, and punched Spike back. He hit her again. Tried to. She blocked, and kicked him in the stomach, sending him falling back into some garbage. He was making her angry. She needed that. Angry wasn't usually good, but Buffy was hardly feeling at all since she came back. The feeling of anger, or of being hit, of fighting. These were all welcome to her, no matter how bad for her that might be. She didn't care. She needed something.

Spike got up and they traded more blows. Buffy wouldn't say she was having fun, but at least now, she didn't feel as dead. She tried to hit Spike, but he dodged away then threw a punch that sent her spinning. She'd forgotten all about how well Spike could fight, all that time he'd been unable to hurt her. It made her wonder why he'd never killed her, back when he'd first came to Sunnydale all those years ago. But he hadn't, and that was what mattered now. Why didn't matter one bit. All that mattered right now, at this moment, was the fight.

At some point it stopped being a fight. Hating herself the whole time, Buffy kissed him again, slamming him up against the wall of the nearby house. He was taken aback at first, but he didn't try to stop her. He kissed her back, running his hands through her hair. He wanted her more than she wanted him. It showed. It wasn't really Spike she wanted at all, just... just a distraction. Some kind of comfort. And she was getting that just fine. She had nothing in her mind at all, nothing except for this moment.

And then he ruined it.

"She told me," he said. "Told me something would change. Didn't think this was what she'd meant."

Buffy pulled away from him. "Who told you something would change?"

Spike froze, as if suddenly realising he'd said something wrong. "No one. No one important. Just a friend of mine."

"You don't have friends," Buffy said.

"I have friends," Spike protested. "Remember Clem?"

"That wrinkly demon you play kitten poker with?"

"Exactly. Him. He's a friend."

"But it wasn't Clem. You said she. _She_ told you. Who was that?"

Spike took a breath to speak, and then let it out again. He paused for a few seconds, looking away from her, as if deciding what to say. Or maybe whether or not to lie. "It was Dru," he said at last.

"Drusilla?" Buffy asked, her blood running cold. She had not enjoyed Drusilla's last visit to Sunnydale. If she was back...

"Yeah. She came to my crypt. Not for me, though. I guess she just wanted to check up on me or something. Don't know where she's staying, and I don't know if she'll be staying here long. She'll probably clear out of town once she's bored."

"You knew Drusilla was here, and didn't tell me?"

"What?"

"How many people has she killed already? You didn't even think of telling me, to warn me? She could kill Dawn!"

"I didn't think of that," Spike said. "Didn't see why you'd want to know. Thought it wasn't important."

"How is a crazy, century old vampire being in Sunnydale not important?"

"Guess it is. Just didn't think of it like that, I s'pose."

Of course he hadn't. He was a vampire, they didn't think like that. They didn't consider how many people would die, and if they did, they revelled in it. They liked death. But Buffy didn't, no matter what he said. Not of innocent people at least. She kicked him, knocking him down. She turned away. He didn't try to say anything, didn't try to get up or go after her. She didn't look back at him. She just left.

* * *

Spike hadn't been lying to Buffy when he'd said he didn't know where Dru was right now. Not properly lying anyway. She hadn't told him or anything. But he knew her. She'd go somewhere she had history. That left the factory or the mansion. And since the factory was a burnt-out husk, mansion it was.

The Crawford Street Mansion was far from one of Spike's favourite buildings. It had been where he'd stayed when Angelus was with them for that little while, what, four years ago nearly? That had been a bloody awful year. But it was over now. Angelus had gone to LA to be all private detective, and only him and Drusilla were here. But it wasn't the same as it used to be.

Drusilla was in the garden outside, cradling a doll. Not one Spike recognised. She hadn't left it here. "Hello Spike," she said, without looking up at him. "Didn't the Slayer want to play?"

"Not really," he said. "She's all pissed off at me now."

"Silly boy," she said.

"Yeah. Silly me."

"Would you like to sit with me for a while?" Drusilla asked.

Spike walked over to her and sat down beside her. The garden smelled of jasmine. "How's It going?"

"Willow didn't want to see me. She's scared of me now. I don't know why. I didn't hurt her. We just made such glorious magic. Spike, you should have seen it! We made it like Hell on earth, it was so beautiful. And she seemed so happy. I don't know why she doesn't like it now."

"Yeah. I think I get it."

"Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"Killing."

Spike didn't reply for a moment. It wasn't something all that easy to reply to. He did miss it. Wished he could go back to it. If everything could be how he wanted it, he'd be with Buffy too, them both killing everything in their path. But that would never happen, and he wasn't even sure he wanted it to. Buffy wouldn't be Buffy if she'd changed that much. It would be like the bot. Not the girl he fell for, but a pale replacement of her. But he did want to kill, ever so much. He just didn't feel like he could anymore. "Yeah," he said at last. "Yeah, I miss it."

"But not enough."

"Enough for what?"

"To come with me. Last year. I wanted to help you, and you wanted to stay here. To be with that Slayer."

"Why do you hate her so much, Dru?"

Drusilla looked at him. "She took you from me. Your mind was so full of her... Why must everything be taken from me?"

Drusilla wasn't panicking, as she usually would be when saying things like that. Her voice was small and sad, and she was looking at Spike like he knew the answer, but he didn't. Didn't even know the answers to the things that were wrong in his own life, let alone Drusilla's. And there were so many things wrong, for both of them. When was the last time things had felt all right to him? Before Sunnydale, probably. Before Prague even, when Drusilla had still been healthy. And for Dru... Before Angelus, maybe. When she was still human. But even then she'd had the visions, hadn't she? That was what had made Angelus want her in the first place, those visions. That was what Darla had told him. Had Drusilla ever felt all right?

"Guess we're just unlucky," Spike said.

"I wish we weren't," Drusilla replied.

"Well, yeah. But is wishing gonnna get us anywhere?"

"It might get us somewhere. We don't have to do something if we don't wish it. But that wish can make us make things happen. Can make things change. If anything ever will."

"Since when did you become an inspirational speaker?" Spike asked.

Drusilla didn't reply.

Spike didn't really know why he'd come here. He guessed it was just because Buffy didn't want him around, and he was kind of... lonely. He almost missed Harmony. At least then he could pretend. But that wasn't any good either. Nothing was any good. Something had changed, but it wasn't enough. Nothing would ever be enough. And Drusilla couldn't help him. She knew even less about people than Spike did. So he was more or less stuck. How had Angel got Buffy to like her? Oh, yeah, he'd had a soul. Well, Spike wasn't about to let a bunch of gypsies curse him. That just wasn't going to happen. Maybe nothing was ever going to happen.

"It doesn't work on her anymore," Spike said, breaking the silence.

"What doesn't?" Drusilla asked.

"The chip. Since she came back... it stopped working. I can hurt her now. But I don't even want to anymore. I don't think it even makes a difference."

A whimper beside him. Spike turned. Drusilla was half in a daze, seeing things he couldn't hope to understand. She was having a vision. He held her close, keeping her as comfortable as she could be at that time. She might have dumped him, but she still meant something to him. She was still his sire. Maybe she could even be his friend. He still cared when she was hurting.

When she calmed down a bit he asked her, "What did you see, Dru?"

"The bright witch has a worm in her heart. It's made everyone so sad. Naughty boy!"

"Who? Me?"

"Not you," she said like she was speaking to a particularly stupid four-year-old. "The one who put the worm in the witch's heart with the fire. He has been bad, and must be punished. But it shouldn't be nice for him. He should hate it. Every moment. Make him hurt like the blood witch hurt."

"Go," she said. "Go home. I'll take care of this one."

"You sure?" Spike asked, doubtful.

"Yes. Go." Drusilla got up, and walked back to the house, not waiting for Spike. She must have known he'd leave. He might have gone after her before, but before wasn't now. Now, he did what she said, and started walking back home.


	5. Chapter 5

**_A Dark Vision_**

 _Chapter Five_

* * *

Drusilla went back to the mansion, shaking from the images echoing through her mind. She'd left Spike outside, knowing he wouldn't try to interfere. She could see everything so clearly. The meanings were escaping, so she couldn't grasp them, but the images were clear. She could see the blood, and she could feel the rage. No. This feeling went beyond rage, beyond everything she could understand. It was powerful enough to bring her to her knees.

But she had to get through it. There was something she had to do. The bad man had hurt the witch, and Drusilla didn't want the witch to be hurt. She wanted her to feel good, and to make her feel good. They should both be happy. They deserved to be happy as much as anyone else, didn't they, her and her witch? So Drusilla had to kill the one who'd hurt her. It seemed simple enough. Drusilla liked to kill, and torture and maim. It was what she'd been made for.

Without having to find out, she knew where he was. When she found him, she would tear him to pieces. She didn't care about the others. They were nothing to her. If they were in the way, she'd kill them. If they ran, she'd let them go. She hoped they wouldn't run.

Drusilla arrived in their basement lair. Humans didn't really live in lairs, didn't call them that at least, but she couldn't call this anything other than a lair. The place was a mess. Even Drusilla thought it seemed disorganised. It was exactly like the mausoleum lairs so many vampires in this town kept.

There were shelves covered in strange objects. She reached out to touch one of them, then held it in her hand.

"Hey! Let go of Bobba Fett!" one of the humans said.

"All right," said Drusilla. She dropped it to the ground and crushed it beneath her heel. The human yelled something at her, but Drusilla ignored him. He wasn't important. The one she had come for was sitting down His name came to her then, as if hearing it spoken. Warren. He knew the dangers. He was the only one who really knew what he'd got himself into. The others were just pawns. Drusilla didn't need to pay them any mind.

She walked to him, the one who'd hurt her witch. "You've been very naughty, my child. Do you know what happens to naughty children?"

"They go to bed without supper?" he suggested. He was afraid of her, in the way that all humans were afraid of vampires, but he wasn't as afraid of her as he should have been. He underestimated her, thought she would be less of a threat because of her insanity. Many people thought things like that. They were wrong.

"Yes, that too. But what I meant was, they should be punished. My Daddy always punished me when I was bad. Sometimes even when I wasn't. He'd hurt me so much, it was lovely. My Spike would never hurt me enough. But I can hurt you more than enough. I can hurt you so badly you'll want me to stop."

"Get away from Warren!" one of the others shouted. Drusilla ignored him, as she had already been doing. It didn't matter. All that mattered was making this one pay for what he'd done.

Drusilla moved towards him, backing him into the corner. She ran her nails down his face and licked the blood that trickled from the wound. She could smell his sweat, his blood, his fear, so intoxicating. She put her hand through his hair and jerked his head back. She licked his neck, and then bit down. He screamed, like beautiful music. She tore through his flesh with her nails. She didn't drink from him properly—she didn't want him to die so soon. She wanted him to suffer for what he had done.

"Stop it! Stop hurting him!" one of the others cried. But he didn't make a move to stop her. Drusilla turned around, let them see her face. Even with no reflection, she knew how she must look to them. Death-white skin, yellow eyes, and bloodstained fangs. She could see one of them, the taller one, scrambling to get to the door. He didn't look afraid; he was well past that point. He looked like he was about to pass out. They both left, running off to get help, or perhaps just to hide. Didn't matter which.

With them gone, Drusilla could keep all her attention on her prey. He was barely able to stand on his shaking legs, already in pain. Already afraid for his life.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked. "Will it be quick?"

Drusilla cocked her head, deliberating. "No. I will kill you, eventually," she said. "But it won't be quick."

* * *

Willow hadn't been able to leave the magic alone. She had been trying as hard as she could, for Tara, so she'd want to be with her again. But... she couldn't stop herself. She was trying to help people, but Tara didn't seem to care, and everyone else agreed with Tara instead of Willow, even though they'd known her way longer. Except... except Drusilla. Willow knew she shouldn't be spending time with her. She was an evil, crazy vampire. But she was actually encouraging her to use magic, instead of saying it was bad, and that made Willow feel so much better.

She didn't know where she was. She'd been walking a while, trying to clear her head of the stampede of thoughts inside it. She'd somehow ended up in a residential street she didn't recognise. Where was this place? Why was she here? Something must have brought her here. She hadn't cast a spell, and she thought she'd know if there was someone else casting a spell on her. Maybe she'd just wandered here, and it didn't mean anything. She hoped that was the case.

She came across a house. A perfectly ordinary house, by all outward appearances. But it wasn't ordinary. Willow could feel the emotions coming from it: pain, fear, rage. Was this a witch thing or was it just that powerful? Willow wasn't usually very good at sensing things like that, especially not if she wasn't even trying to. But she could feel this. She felt this pain like it was her own.

A woman walked out of the house. It was Drusilla, wearing a red dress, the skirt made of layers of lace. "Willow," she said. "You were late. You should have seen how badly I hurt him, it almost rivaled the pain he caused you."

"Hurt who?" Willow asked, walking closer. As she got closer, she was that Drusilla wasn't wearing red. Some spots of the dress's former white colour showed through the blood that covered it almost completely. Willow felt sick. This close, she thought she could even smell the blood. Strong, metallic. Like pennies. "Oh my god, Drusilla, what did you do?"

"Wasn't it what you wanted? It's not much worse than what you did to him in the future. He was bad, he needed to be hurt."

"Who are you talking about, Drusilla? What happened? What did you do?"

Drusilla tried to peer into Willow's face, moving closer to her, so that their skin almost touched. Drusilla had spots of blood on her face, even starting to dry in her hair. She didn't even seem to notice, her eyes wide like a child's. Willow flinched away.

"Your eyes," Drusilla whispered. She whimpered, like she wanted to cry. When she spoke again, her voice shook. "They're wrong, they're all wrong. Still so much like the forest, not like night at all. What is wrong? I got it wrong. I don't know what changed, or what hasn't changed. Do you know, witch?"

"I don't know what you're asking me," Willow said. "I asked you a question. Who did you hurt? Why did you think..." Willow wanted to ask why she had thought Willow would do the same, but she couldn't get the words out.

"It was him. The one who took your love, your light. I saw it. I saw you hurting him back. I though that was what you wanted."

"I don't understand what you mean. The one who took my love?"

Drusilla frowned, seeming to suddenly think of something. "Where is she? The light one, the bright witch, do you know where she is?"

"What, Tara?" Willow asked. Drusilla nodded. "She's... in her dorm, I guess. I talked to her earlier on the phone and she was fine."

"She's all right?"

"Yeah."

"No. No, no! That's all wrong!" Drusilla shrieked.

Drusilla was trembling, her hands bunched up in her hair. Red trickles ran down her face from where nails broke through her flesh. Willow backed away. She didn't want to know what happened when a powerful vampire had a panic attack. She had to get out of here.

"Don't leave!" Drusilla said. So she stayed. She didn't really know why, she didn't think it was doing her or Drusilla any good. But she didn't know what else to do. Willow reached out, her arm stiff in her nervousness. She was trying to comfort Drusilla somehow, though she knew it wouldn't work. But she didn't know what to do.

"No!" Drusilla screamed. She got up, and ran from Willow. Willow blinked after her, and didn't try to follow.

She looked at the house again. Drusilla had left the door open, and it yawned like the opening of a cavern. Willow walked towards it. She went down to the basement. When she turned the light on, she nearly threw up. What had Drusilla done?

The whole room was covered in blood, splattered on the walls, pooling on the floor. There was a trail of bloody footprints where Drusilla had walked away. And lying on the floor, in the centre of it all, was something that might have been a body. It looked like raw meat, like whoever it was had been flayed alive. There was a pool of blood surrounding it. Willow couldn't believe there could be so much blood in one body. There was something on the floor nearby it, and as Willow looked closer, she realised it was a heart, ripped from the body on the floor. The body's ribs had been crushed, as if the heart had literally been torn from it with Drusilla's bare hands.

Willow could feel bile rising in her throat, but tried not to let herself freak out too much. She should have known something like this could happen. As soon as she had learned that Drusilla was in Sunnydale, she should have told Buffy. She could have stopped this. She could have stopped Drusilla torturing this innocent person, whoever it was. What Drusilla had said to her made no sense, and neither did what she had done. Shaking, Willow walked out. She felt cold. She wanted to go home, have some hot cocoa, and cuddle up in bed. Pretend she hadn't seen... that.

But she had to tell Buffy about this.

* * *

Buffy was in the Magic Box with Xander and Anya. They were mostly ignoring each other, which was strange. They'd come here to talk to each other, but they were doing very little talking.

The bell rang as the door opened. Buffy hated that sound ever since the mummy hand incident. Willow walked in, lingering in the doorway for a moment.

"Hey guys," she said.

"Willow. We were wondering where you were," Buffy said. They hadn't been really, but she said it anyway. Maybe it would make Willow feel better. Someone deserved to feel good. But she didn't think saying they were worried about her really helped.

"I was just…" Willow started. Buffy noticed then that Willow seemed distressed, as if something had happened. Her face was pale, more so than usual. "I went for a walk," she said. "But… I saw something. I met Drusilla, and—" Willow couldn't say any more. Even after all they'd seen, all the death they'd faced, something had been able to render Willow speechless. It must have been awful.

"Drusilla? You saw Drusilla? Are you all right?" Buffy asked.

"I'm fine. But… someone's not. There was a body, in the house, and everything was covered in blood, it was so horrible…"

"What house?"

"There was a house. I found her in a house, that's where it happened. I saw her leave, and then went to see what had happened. That person she killed—they'd been completely torn apart."

"Torn apart?"

Willow nodded.

The door opened again. One of the people Buffy recognised as Jonathan, the other she didn't know. They both looked terrified.

"Hey, Jonathon. What are you doing here?" she asked.

"It's Warren," he said. "He was being attacked by a vampire. Some crazy girl in a white dress. We couldn't do anything, so we just ran away. We came here... but we were too late."

Warren. The only Warren Buffy knew was the one who had made the robots. She didn't like him, partly because of his involvement with that sick bot that looked like her. But that didn't mean he deserved to be tortured to death by a vampire.

Buffy left the Magic Box, grabbing her jacket as she walked past the counter.

"Where are you going?" Jonathon asked.

"Are you going to help Warren?" Andrew added.

"I think he's a bit past helping now. But I'm gonna see if I can stop Drusilla killing anyone else."

Buffy continued on outside, and this time no one tried to stop her. No one tried to say anything else as Buffy walked away again. She put her jacket on as she left, then tied her hair back into a ponytail. She had two stakes in the inner pockets of this jacket. She was completely ready for an encounter with Drusilla. And when she found her, she was going to stake her. Only problem was, she didn't exactly know where Drusilla was.

She tried some of the usual vamp haunts. Unsurprisingly, Drusilla wasn't anywhere Buffy would expect to see someone. She wasn't very predictable. Buffy guessed that unpredictable had been pretty much what Angelus had been aiming for when he drove her insane. To think, he had tried to hurt Buffy the same way once. If he had really managed to hurt like he had Drusilla, Buffy wondered, how would she have coped? Would she be broken, like Drusilla? Or would she still have been stronger even with her friends gone, with nothing left? She remembered her own words to Angelus when he taunted her. 'No friends, no weapons. Take all that away and what's left?' Angelus had asked her. Her reply had been brief, but still meaningful: Me. At the time, that had been enough. But now, after everything she'd been through recently… Buffy didn't know if it still was.

After almost an hour of wondering, Buffy finally had an idea that seemed like it was worth pursuing. Drusilla wasn't usually predictable, but that was only because her logic could be so strange. It didn't mean she didn't have logic. Sometimes, she was surprisingly logical. Unpredictably predictable, almost. If Buffy were a crazy vampire who had just returned to town all alone, where would she go? To a familiar place of course.

The factory was utterly out of the question, having burned down. Buffy knew what condition it was in—it was almost as bad as the blown-up high school was now. Drusilla definitely wouldn't go there. She may be crazy, but she was stupid. At least, not as stupid as Spike had been when he'd tried to kidnap Willow that time. So, if the factory was out… That left Angel's old place, the art-deco mansion on Crawford Street.

Buffy walked there. It took a while, but not too long. Still, every second counted when she was on a mission. She got to the mansion. She stood in the garden for a moment, inhaling the scent of jasmine on the air. She had so many memories of this place, during that year after Angel had been brought back from hell. Of the fight with Angelus, where Spike had left without hesitation with Drusilla, leaving Buffy to fend for herself. She almost wished he'd do that again.

She walked inside the house, her footsteps echoing. The place was deserted. She knew that even without looking very much. Drusilla wasn't here. And yet… something had been. Maybe Drusilla, maybe not, but Buffy thought it was her. She moved through the house like a ghost. The place had definitely been occupied, and definitely by Drusilla. Her old room had new dolls in, that Buffy definitely hadn't seen before. Discared clothes lay on the floor, white and red and black, lace and silk. Beautiful things, still strewn all around. Everything seemed undisturbed. It idn't look like Drusilla had skipped town in a hurry. It looked like she'd just walked to get something to eat. But she wasn't here now. Buffy stared at the empty room, as if she were hoping Drusilla might materialise into it from nowhere. Buffy didn't know where Drusilla was. But someone else might.

It was late by the time she got to Spike's crypt. It had already been late, but now it was only a few hours until sunrise. Buffy had been up all night, like the vampires she hunted. And so, of course, had Spike.

When she first stormed into the crypt, she thought for a moment that Spike wasn't there. But she could still sense him, the way a Slayer could always sense a vampire. It was no more than that, she told herself. He climbed up from the lower level. Buffy couldn't read the expression on his face.

"Buffy," he said. "Haven't seen you in here since that whole singing thing."

"Where's Drusilla? I need to find her."

"Already told you Dru was here, what's the hurry all of a sudden?"

"She killed someone."

"Just one someone? I'd say that's cause for a bloody celebration."

"This was different. Willow found the body. She said… it was torn apart. Like it wasn't even a person anymore. She tortured him."

"Yeah? Dru always did like to play games with her food. Must have been a bit of fun for her."

Spike's expression seemed almost wistful. Buffy gazed back at him in horror. Only when he saw her face did he realise what he'd said. Or rather, what was wrong with what he'd said.

"I mean, probably wasn't so fun for the bloke getting tortured..." he said. But it was too little, too late. He'd already let his facade of humanity crack, let it show that he didn't care. Did Buffy care, what he thought, what he said? She didn't even know herself. He was a soulless monster, she shouldn't expect any more of him. And yet, somehow, she did.

"But do you know where she is?" Buffy asked, trying to get back to the reason she'd come here in the first place.

"I might," he said. "Or I might not." He looked at her for a long moment, face completely still. His eyes reflected the yellow glow of the candlelight. "Checked the Crawford Street Mansion?"

"Yeah, I have. She was there, but she's not anymore," Buffy said.

"In that case, not sure I can help you. Don't know where it is she could've went. Off with the faeries or whatever. Who knows?"

Buffy believed him. She almost wanted to believe that Spike was lying, trying to protect Drusilla. But if he was lying, she didn't think he would have told her about the Crawford Street Mansion. Sure, it hadn't actually been helpful for her, but he hadn't known she'd already thought of going there.

What could it mean, that he was so willing to tell Buffy where Drusilla might have been? Had he finally let go of her? Or did he think he was going to pit Buffy and Drusilla against each other so they'd both die? Or did he just know Buffy was smart enough to have already checked there?

She couldn't guess at the crazy thoughts that could be going through Spike's head. He wasn't a normal person. Hell, he wasn't a person. Not really. He was a soulless, evil vampire. That made him very much of the non-person variety. Right?

"What are you thinking about?"

"Huh?" Buffy blinked, snapping back to reality. To the crypt, warmly lit by candlelight but still cold. Stone was like that. It kept the heat out and the cold in. Cold and dead, just like the one who lived there.

"You just completely spaced out. Kind of like what Dru used to do, when she was talking to the pixies or her dolls or whatever."

There was a warm, affectionate look in Spike's eyes, and it disgusted her. How could he compare her to Drusilla? How could he act like that was a good thing in any way? Of course he'd think it was, but Buffy thought otherwise. She didn't like it. She didn't want to be compared to an insane murderer, even if she had been a victim once. In fact, she didn't want to be either of those.

"Leaving now then?" Spike asked, eyes begging her silently to stay.

"Yeah, sure. I'm leaving in a second." She didn't move.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Interesting way of leaving you got there, pet. Doesn't seem too efficient."

Despite herself, Buffy smirked slightly. She didn't want to leave. She didn't know why. All Spike was doing was annoying her, but she still didn't want to leave. "I guess I just don't know where to go."

"So you're staying here."

"No," Buffy said. Spike raised an eyebrow at her again. "Maybe," she amended.

"Just till you get bored of me."

Buffy shrugged her shoulders. Spike sat down on the sarcophagus, his legs spread out in front of him, one booted foot hanging off the edge. He looked good, sprawled out like that. It almost made Buffy want to go over there and kiss him again. But she wasn't going to do that. That would be bad, very much of the bad, in so many ways. But the temptation was there, and she wasn't ignoring it any more. She'd stopped ignoring it the first time they'd kissed.

She walked over and sat beside him. He looked at her, seemingly a little surprised that she was still staying, even though she'd said she wouldn't.

This wasn't real. Buffy told herself that over and over as they kissed, touched each other. This wasn't real. It didn't mean anything. Spike's hands moved under her shirt, trying to take it off. She pushed his hands away, then took it off herself. Not real, she reminded herself as she felt his hands around her neck, on the small of her back, caressing her breasts and her sides and moving down to her hips. She kissed him hungrily, tangling her hands in his hair.

She let go for a moment, an pushed him down, so he was lying on his back on the cold stone floor. She dropped down so she was straddling him, and he grinned lasciviously. She brought her lips back to his and felt his body react beneath her. Buffy didn't know why she was doing this. Part of her was still screaming at her inside that what she was doing was wrong. This was Spike! He was an evil, soulless vampire. But that didn't make a difference right now. She just wanted to feel something.

So she let herself forget what she was doing, who she was doing it with, and just let the feelings of pleasure wash over her as she found comfort in her enemy. Afterwards, she did not look at him. She got up quickly and tried to find her clothes. Where had they gone? She found her shirt near the door, her pants on top of the sarcophagus. She dressed quickly, not caring if her clothes looked rumpled. That was the least of her problems. She looked back at Spike. He had fallen asleep. It surprised her to notice that he breathed while sleeping. Seeing him lie there, asleep, asleep, unclothed, hair tousled, her looked so innocent... she could almost forget he was a brutal murderer. She put on her jacket and walked into the cool night air, arms folded against her chest. Even now, she felt alone. Even lying beside him, the taste of him on her tongue, she had still felt alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**_A Dark Vision_**

 _Chapter Six_

* * *

Tara hesitated at the door of the Magic Box, unsure whether to go in. Most of the others were there already, including Willow, which almost made Tara want to turn back. She didn't want to see Willow. It felt cruel, but after what she'd done, Tara really didn't think she could trust her. That she still loved her just as much only made the betrayal and distrust feel worse. She'd played with her thoughts like they meant nothing, she'd violated her. Tara knew Willow had meant well, but meaning well didn't help when it made her do things like that. She couldn't trust her now.

But that didn't mean she had to forget about everyone else. They were Willow's friends, but they were Tara's friends too. And they need help. Tara couldn't let her mistrust of Willow stop her from helping people who needed her. And maybe she could even help Willow. That might be possible, right? But she doubted it. Willow was getting more and more lost in the magic. Tara could see it in her aura. Tara felt bad for not helping her, but the truth was, she didn't think she could. If anyone could, it was Willow herself, but she hadn't seemed to really be trying to stop.

So she walked in, picking a seat as far from Willow as she could. She listened to what the others were saying, although she didn't think she could help them.

"So Drusilla's back?" Xander asked.

Buffy nodded.

"I don't get it," Xander said. "If you've already known this for a couple of days, why didn't you do something about it?"

"Because I didn't know where she was. I still don't, but now I know we need to take her out before she hurts anyone else. You remember what Willow said about the body—about Warren. He didn't even look human anymore. She's not just killing people, she's torturing them."

"Of course she is. Vampires do that," Xander said.

"Not all of them. Most vampires aren't really evil—I mean, they're evil, but not, like _super_ evil. They kill people for food, but normally think torturing people is kinda boring unless they particularly hate them. Really evil vampires like Angelus are outliers really. I mean, I'm not saying they're puppies or anything, but we don't normally expect them to be like this," Buffy said.

Tara wanted to say something, but she didn't really know what was going on. The others all reacted as if they knew this Drusilla, but Tara didn't think she'd heard the name before. Maybe she should ask? But everyone was talking so much, she didn't want to interrupt them. But if she didn't do anything, she probably wouldn't find out. It wasn't like they were going to start spontaneously talking about Drusilla and their history with her.

"Um, guys? Who, who is this Drusilla? I'm just wondering, because it sounds like you've met her before, and..." Tara said.

"Evil psycho vampire," Xander said.

Buffy shot a look at Xander. "That _is_ true, but she's more than that. She's Spike's sire. She was driven insane and made into a vampire by Angelus. She was here last year, but I guess you didn't see her. Or maybe you didn't remember her. In any case, she's dangerous. More than the average vamp, because of her age and her insanity, which makes her hard to predict. Oh, and she can see the future."

"She's a Seer?" Tara asked. That wasn't good. Seers could be powerful opponents and she didn't want Buffy to be facing one. If what she said was true, then she was right—this Drusilla really was more dangerous than the average vampire. She wasn't sure any of them would be able to face this. She could know about any move they made against her. Their only hope was that her visions would be hard enough to interpret, like they sometimes were.

Tara looked over at Willow. She was listening to the conversation, but hadn't said a word herself. Tara thought she looked uncomfortable. Maybe it was just her remembering what she'd seen of Warren's body. Tara knew she'd be freaked out if she'd discovered something like that. She got up and walked over to Willow. Willow's eyes lit up when she saw Tara was coming over, but then she looked away again. It seemed almost like there was something she didn't want to talk about.

"Hey, Willow," Tara said.

Willow moved her lip, maybe trying to smile. Maybe it was just a grimace. "Hey, Tara," she said. "How are things?"

"Good. Uh, good. What about you? How are you doing with the magics?"

"Great," Willow said. She wouldn't meet Tara's eyes.

"You sure? You haven't been doing any spells?"

Willow shook her head. Tara's heart sank. She knew Willow was lying, and she knew that was a bad sign. After what had happened a little while ago, with everyone losing their memories... Tara didn't want to think about what might happen next. But they had other things to worry about now. She could worry about Willow more after they dealt with Drusilla.

The bell tinkled as the door opened again and everyone's heads swung around. Spike stood in the doorway, a blanket over his head, lightly smoking. He hurried inside, dropping the singed blanket to the ground. It was evening, so it wasn't so stupid that he'd come here in the sunlight, but it was still pretty stupid.

"Am I late?" he asked. As far as Tara knew, he hadn't been supposed to be there, so technically he wasn't late at all. But she didn't tell him that.

"What are you doing here, Spike?" Buffy asked, folding her arms.

"What, am I not allowed to be here now?"

"Just seems a bit strange that you'd want to be here, since we're basically plotting how to kill your ex-girlfriend."

Something crossed Spike's face. Not anger. Sorrow, perhaps. "Really think that's how it has to go then?" he asked, he looked only at Buffy, his voice so quiet Tara could barely hear. She wasn't sure Willow, Xander or Anya could hear him at all.

"What else would we do? We can't let Drusilla run wild. She's already killed one person that we know of. Probably a lot more, since vampires eat people. Unless you've forgotten about that in the time you've been, y'know... neutered."

"You didn't kill Angel. Or me. Why would you treat Dru different?"

"I _did_ kill Angel. When he tried to destroy the world, I needed to. The rest of the time, Angel had a soul. _You_ have a government chip in your head. Drusilla has neither of those."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Sure that's the only reason, pet?"

Buffy looked so angry she might be about to explode. "Yes, Spike. I'm sure that's the only reason. It's definitely not your sunny personality."

Tara frowned. Buffy wasn't quite up to her usual level of snark. There was something about the look Spike gave Buffy then. Like he knew something that the others didn't. Tara thought she might ask Buffy about that later. But right now it didn't seem all that important compared to everything else.

"And anyway, didn't you say you wanted to kill her yourself last year?" Buffy asked.

Spike scoffed. "Well, yeah, but it wasn't to stop her killing innocent people. It was for you. That's different."

"That's _worse_. Especially since you for some reason thought it was romantic. I _really_ don't get why."

"Not my fault you humans have no sense of romance," Spike said with a shrug.

Buffy just stared at him, but Tara didn't think he even knew what he'd said wrong. What he was talking about was nothing like a human would feel, but it made perfect sense to him, and he couldn't understand why the others didn't understand him. Tara thought it would be interesting if it wasn't kind of creepy.

"Uh... guys? Can we get back to the topic? We were talking about Drusilla, not… whatever this is," Xander said.

"You're right, Xander. This isn't helping," Tara said. "We can't argue at a time like this. It's not going to help. We need to figure out how o find Drusilla, and how we can fight her. It can't be too hard. I mean, she's just a vampire, right, even if she is a strong one? It's not like she's a hellgod…" Tara trailed off.

She still didn't like to talk about Glory, or even think about what had happened last year. She couldn't really remember much of it; it was blurry, unclear, just like her mind had been. There were only snatches of memory from after Glory had brain-sucked her. But she remembered the bit before that pretty vividly. She remembered the fear that had run through her, stronger than any she'd ever felt, even when she'd been afraid of being a demon, and afraid of what her family would think about her. She remembered how much it had hurt when Glory had broken her hand. She remembered the fingers in her brain, the pain, the fear, her own piercing screech. Even here, being safe, those memories still disturbed her.

The thoughts gave her pause for a moment. The way she'd felt when Glory had sucked her brain out—would the vampire have felt anything like that when her sire drove her insane? Tara didn't think it was that similar, since as far as she knew, it hadn't been mystical in this Drusilla's case. But still, some of it must be similar. The panic, the disorientation, the constant confusion. She'd feel sorry for her, if she weren't a vampire.

"Do we have any idea where Drusilla could be hiding?" Xander asked.

"Maybe she'd at the mansion," Willow suggested. "You know, Angel's mansion on Crawford Street. That was where they'd stayed before, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but I already looked there. Drusilla's stuff was there, and she'd definitely been there, but she wasn't there anymore. I came back this morning, same story, except her stuff was gone too. She's gone off somewhere else, I don't know where. I thought maybe the factory, but that place isn't safe at all. Remember how badly Cordelia was hurt?"

"Yeah," Willow said quietly. Tara heard the strain in her voice—there was a bad memory there. She had a fleeting thought of asking her about it and comforting her—then remembered it was too late for that. She'd seen Willow's problems ages ago, but had hoped it would get better. It was only starting to spiral out of control. And after what had happened with Willow playing with her memory, she just couldn't be around her anymore, no matter how much she missed her.

"Yeah, but she's insane. You can't rule anything out," Xander said.

Spike scoffed. "She's crazy, not stupid. Even she wouldn't go back there, trust me."

"I thought you weren't going to help us with her," Buffy said.

"Oh, I'm not helping you. Just pointing out how stupid you're being. Long as I don't make any real suggestions, I wouldn't consider it helping. Said she's not in the factory. Didn't say where she would be."

"Spike," Tara started. "I know you want to protect her, but—"

"Damn right I want to protect her! We were together for a hundred years, there's no way in hell I'm going to betray her for you lot!" Spike shouted. Tara blinked up at him, startled, and he softened his voice. "I'm not going to help you kill my sire. If anything, I'd help her kill you. Been waiting long enough."

"You wanted to kill her for me last year. You wouldn't try that again?" Buffy asked.

"Don't exactly need to now, do I pet?" Spike said with a smirk.

Tara didn't understand the significance of that comment at all, but it clearly meant something to Buffy. Her green eyes hardened, and as she looked over at Spike, Tara thought she might try to stake him right then and there. But she didn't.

"Get out of here," she said, putting a lot of venom in her words without raising her voice at all.

Spike looked at her for a moment, face blank, then walked out, coat swishing in his wake. Tara imagined he was going to find some demons to kill, to get over the anger. She assumed that, anyway. She hoped he wasn't going to try helping Drusilla, like he'd said he wanted to. She knew there wasn't much point in being afraid of him when he still had the chip, but what if he and Drusilla could find a way to get rid of it? She was sure it was possible. But the thought probably wasn't a good one to have. It was unlikely enough, after all, unless they found a witch like Willow.

"Maybe we could use a spell," Willow said. "I could find her. But, I need something of hers. And… we don't have anything. So that won't work, unless I find a completely different way of doing a locator spell. Which I could totally do! And hey, maybe I could use Spike or something…"

"Willow!" Tara said, a little more harshly than she'd meant to. "I told you already, no more spells! You remember what happened, or have you been messing with your own memories too? You're going to get us hurt. Again. Just… please, at least try to stop."

"I won't!" Willow said. "I won't hurt you, Tara, or anyone else. I'm just trying to help."

"I know you're _trying_ to help, but that's not what you're doing. You're making things worse. Not just for you, for all of us. Don't use more magic, Willow. You can't, it's too dangerous."

Willow wanted to argue, Tara could see it in her face. But she didn't say anything, and she didn't try to use any kind of magic on her. There was that much at least.

"I think I'm just going to go," Tara said. She turned and left, stealing one last glance at Willow as she did. Her eyes looked wide and sad. Tara told herself that she didn't feel sorry for her right now, that she couldn't let that expression get to her. It still did.

* * *

Tara walked outside and nearly walked into Spike. She hadn't expected to see him still out here. She thought he would have run of to the sewers the first chance he'd got, but instead he was standing here in the shade, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette.

"Tara," he said. "What you doing out? Don't want to be with your friends right now?"

"I don't think I'm helping them much. And Willow… it's hard to be around Willow right now. After everything... Why are you still here?"

"Might have been hoping I could see Buffy. You know, when she leaves."

"You realise the others are going to leave too? And I don't think Buffy wants to see you. She did kick you out, remember?"

"Hm. Yeah. Might not have been such a good plan. I don't know. Guess I don't know what to do. They're trying to hurt Drusilla. I don't want them to, but there's not a lot I can do to stop them."

"Don't you know where she is?" Tara asked. Spike looked towards her with a glare that sent chills down her spine.

"If I knew where she was, I'd probably be over there right now telling her to get the hell out of this bloody shithole of a town. Nah. I don't kow. Don't even know if she does. Somethings happened, that much I can tell. Something bad."

"How do you know something happened to her if you don't even know where she is?"

"I know her. Know what she'd do. She's confused now. Maybe something went wrong. Haven't any of them seen her recently?"

"I don't think so. Why would they?"

"What about Willow? Dru said she was looking for her."

"Drusilla was looking for Willow? She said she hadn't seen her… But I'm not sure if she's telling the truth. Willow's been lying a lot recently. It started with the magic, but if she's actually trying to protect Drusilla... This might be going to far. It had already gone too far really, when she brought Buffy back, and when she erased our memories… But this. She should know how dangerous this is."

"She should know how dangerous all of it is. Bringing someone back from the dead is against all laws of magic, even I know that, and I never had much patience for it. It's just not something that gets done."

"But Willow didn't care."

"'Course, we have Buffy now. That's good. But even she didn't want to be back. I don't think what we want will ever happen to us. Least not in the way we meant."

Tara looked over at him, trying to read meaning from his word in his face, but there was nothing there.

"I should probably get back," Tara said.

"Yeah. I should get going too. Buffy doesn't want to see now me anyway. Should probably get out of her way."

But Tara left before Spike did. Maybe he was waiting for the sunset to finish so he could walk through the streets, instead of the sewers. Tara didn't wait for him. Why would she? He wasn't her friend.

* * *

Drusilla saw things in the air, things that whispered awful things into her ears. Telling her that this was wrong, she'd done something bad. She whimpered. She'd only tried to make the witch happy, make her want her. She'd thought it was what she'd want, to see the bad man hurt for what he did.

But the witch didn't even know what it was he'd done, because it hadn't happened, and now it wouldn't. That should be good, but it wasn't, because the witch didn't even know. If she knew, she'd be pleased. If it had happened... but it hadn't happened, nothing had happened. All that had happened was what Drusilla had done, and that meant nothing without the other.

Blood trailed down her arms from deep scratches, fingernail marks she didn't remember making. Her dress was torn and her bare feet were dirty and scraped from walking on the hard pavement. She didn't care. She knew only that she needed to find the witch. She could make it better, she had to. She would have gone to Spike or Darla for this, but neither were with her. Spike cared for the Slayer now. Darla was gone, had been gone for a while. Neither of them wanted Drusilla now. But maybe the witch could be convinced to care.

Though Drusilla wasn't going to find that out now. "Slayer," she hissed. The cruel beast stood before her. She had no stake in hand, but that didn't mean she didn't have one with her. She hadn't been expecting to see any vampires, but she would be prepared, Drusilla knew that. The witch wasn't with her. Where was she?

"What are you doing here?" The Slayer demanded.

"I'm looking for the witch. Willow. She's unhappy with me now, but we will play such wonderful games when she comes to me. Have you seen her?" Drusilla asked. She didn't think the Slayer would answer her, but it was worth trying.

The Slayer drew a stake from her jacket. _Well, that's just rude,_ Drusilla thought.


	7. Chapter 7

**_A Dark Vision_**

 _Chapter Seven _

* * *

Buffy was walking down Revello drive, almost home, when she saw something that made her stop instantly and stand stock-still on the sidewalk.

Drusilla.

What the hell was Drusilla doing at her house? After all the time she'd spent last night trying to find her, it seemed a mockery for her to suddenly appear after Buffy had finished searching. But she wasn't going to complain. She wanted Drusilla gone. She wanted her out of town, or better yet dead.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I'm looking for the witch. Willow. Have you seen her?" Drusilla asked her.

Buffy frowned. Why was Drusilla looking for Willow? Did she want to hurt her? Buffy didn't know, but she was a vampire. Even if she thought she didn't want to hurt Willow she would. Buffy wasn't going to let Drusilla hurt her friend.

She drew the stake from her jacket and lunged forwards.

It seemed so close to connecting with flesh, plunging into the heart, that Buffy didn't believe it when Drusilla was suddenly five feet away, having dodged the blow. Her face shifted, yellow eyes regarding Buffy with scorn.

"I asked you a question," she said, her words just a tinge lisped from the fangs filling her mouth. If Buffy hadn't heard that sound so often from vampires, she might find it a little comical. But it only seemed threatening to her, with how she associated it with a demon's voice."What do you want Willow for?" Buffy asked.

She aimed a kick at Drusilla's side. Drusilla skipped out of the way — a movement at odds with her demonic visage, like a child playing — and suddenly she was behind Buffy, her cool breath on Buffy's neck, her fingers curling around her throat and jaw. Buffy felt the nails against her skin, felt their sharpness despite the lack of pressure.

She pushed her head back into Drusilla's face. It hurt, but it knocked Drusilla off balance, which was what she'd been aiming for. She went for her again, but Drusilla backed swiftly out of the way.

"Want her to be mine," she said. It took Buffy a minute to remember her question about Willow; all she'd been thinking about was the fight. "She has power, she has darkness. I can show it to her. I can bring it to life."

"Want her to be yours? You mean you want to make her a vampire?" The thought of having to dust her best friend made Buffy all kinds of mad. She especially hated the idea, having actually met a Willow's vampire doppelganger once before. She had been especially sadistic and cruel.

She remembered at the time she'd thought the personality she had as a vampire had no relevance to that of the human. That the person was completely taken over by the demon that infected them. That was what Merrick and Giles had told her from the beginning. Now, though, after knowing vampires a bit better, one of which didn't even have a soul… Now she wasn't so sure.

But that didn't mean anything to her at the moment. She could wonder about that later. Now she needed to make sure nothing could happen to Willow.

"I might. Might not. But I need her. With her help, I could end everything."

"End everything? You think Willow will help you destroy the world?" Buffy asked. Well, that didn't make any sense. Willow would never do anything like that. Buffy knew she'd been slipping up a lot recently, but she was still at least rying to do good. Willow was always just trying to be good. What would make her want to destroy the world? She'd have to think it would be a good thing, but how could it be?

Drusilla began to laugh. It was a chilling sound that made Buffy's skin crawl, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. It sounded more like crying than laughing, like her outward joy concealed untold pain. "Don't think. Know. Saw it happen, saw her, so magnificent. You should have seen it, Slayer. She was all dark, black eyes shining with rage and pain. She could be a goddess."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Seeing things? Guess that makes sense, you've never been all there, have you?" Except she had. Even Buffy knew that. Angel had told her what had happened, what he'd done to her, and it had made no difference to Buffy. She hadn't guessed what would come. She hadn't known that Angelus would only attempt the same with her. Not at that time.

She tightened her grip on her stake, ad leapt forwards again, Drusilla again getting out of the way so quickly Buffy barely saw her move. It was like a dance, a waltz. It reminded Buffy of what Spike had done last year when she'd asked him to show her how he'd killed those Slayers. He'd attacked her knowing that she'd be able to dodge each blow, the only way he could get around the chip. Except this time, Buffy really _did_ want to hurt Drusilla. She just wouldn't let her.

Buffy threw Drusilla, managed to knock her back several yards; she really wasn't all that heavy, even without super strength. She stalked closer, ready to stake her.

A strong punch knocked Buffy backwards,sprawling to the ground. She caught a glimpse of yellow eyes and fangs, and for a split-second thought Drusilla had managed to recover already. But after that first instant, she was able to take in more than that she'd been attacked. Drusilla didn't usually punch like that. And she didn't smell of smoke and bourbon. She didn't wear a leather coat. And she _definitely_ didn't have short, bleached-white hair.

Buffy threw Spike to the ground and stood, looking around for movement. Drusilla had already cleared out. Buffy thought she could see a trace of her: a trail of blood from one of the wounds she'd got in their fight. She could track her with that, but as she moved to do so, Spike got up and tackled her again.

"Spike! What the hell are you doing?" Buffy demanded.

"What's it look like? I'm not letting you hurt Dru. I'm not letting you kill her," Spike said.

"You can't stop me! What, you think that now you've got the chip to stop working, you can control me now? I'm stronger than you, Spike. You've tried to kill me before, and you've always failed. Even when you had the Gem of Amarra I beat you. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. But whatever it is, I'd do it. I couldn't let go of her. She was my first real love, Buffy. You know what that means. You wouldn't let go of Angel, would you?"

"I killed Angel," Buffy said. Although she had to admit that sounded almost cute for a soulles, mass-murdering demon. But she wasn't going to say that out loud.

"Oh, yeah. Bugger. That wasn't a good comparison…"

"Are you going to get out of my way now?" Buffy asked.

"No. Buffy… I would do anything for her, even now. The same way I'd do anything for you."

"Would you kill me? To save her?"

"Well… no. But that's hardly fair," Spike said.

"Why not? You threatened to kill her for me last year. Wouldn't you do the same to me if it meant you could help her? Or do you only make promises like that to people who hate them?"

"That's not the same at all, and you know it."

"How is that not the same?" It seemed the same to Buffy. Surely, from any normal perspective, it seemed the same. But Spike wasn't normal. Drusilla _really_ wasn't normal. Buffy wasn't even sure if she was or not.

"What would you do? If she tried to destory the world, like Angel did? Hell, what if I did? What would you do then?" Buffy asked.

"Same as last time. Get someone else to help me, knock her out, take her someplace else and help her get better. Dru _was_ involved in that whole Acathla mess, if you'll remember. I didn't kill her then. Why would I kill you?"

"Does Drusilla mean more to you than the world does? Does she mean more to you than I do?"

"Not a fair question pet. It's like asking what's worth more, the sky or the sea? See, it doesn't make sense. Sun causes me nothing but pain. But I still need it. Where would I get blood from, if it didn't feed the plants that get eaten? You know, that makes it a pretty good metaphor for you…"

Buffy wasn't so sure about that. "What were you doing here anyway? Did you follow me? Or did you follow Drusilla?"

"Neither. I was just, in the general area, you know, and I happned to see you two…"

Buffy crossed her arms."So, what, you were out for a walk and my house happens to be between places and other places?"

"Er… yeah." Spike didn't seem to like being reminded of his own words. Maybe hearing them from someone else helped him realise how dumb he sounded.

"Well, you seem to have succeeded anyway. Drusilla got away."

"You mean you're not going to kill her?" Spike almost sounded hopeful.

"Not right now. I will if I see her again though." Buffy told herself that was only because she was tired now, and didn't want to fight. It wasn't because she cared about Spike.

Spike kissed her. Buffy was startled; she had literally just said she'd kill his ex-girlfriend if she saw her again. But that didn't mean it was unwelcome. It wasn't like last time, passionate and hungry. This was gentle, and over too quickly. That wasn't what Buffy wanted. But she understood. Spike was grateful for even a nights safety for Drusilla.

As the kiss ended, Buffy looked at him for a moment, torn. Last night had been the first time she'd really felt something since she came back. But it wasn't good. She didn't care about Spike, she didn't love him. She couldn't love someone like him.

"Goodnight," she said to him, and walked past him to the house, closing the door behind her. He had an invite, so there was nothing stopping him from following beyond basic courtesy, which she was sure he didn't have. But as she looked back through the window, she saw him walking away. Even Spike could tell when he wasn't wanted.

* * *

Spike trudged away from the Summers house. He meant to walk home, but nearly laughed when he realised where his feet were leading him. He stood outside the mansion, where Drusilla was now hiding. What was he doing here? She wouldn't want to see him any more than Buffy did.

Even still, he walked inside. No point in going back now, was there?

"Spike…" Her voice floated through the air like a spirit's. Spike turned around, and there she was, standing on the stair.

"Hello, Dru. You sure this is the best place for you to be, right now? Slayer says she's already come looking for you here once. No reason she won't come back."

"I'll be alright."

"I'm sure you will." And he'd make sure of it himself, if it would take his life to do it. Let the two of kill each other once he was gone, but he wouldn't let either of them hurt each other while he could.

"Why are you here? You're not mine anymore, not the way you were. You're the Slayers boy now."

"I know that. I'm not—." Spike stopped and shook his head. "Look. You remember when you first left me, when you were with that Chaos Demon? Before I walked away, I remember you said we could still be friends. I don't know if you meant it, but… what if we could? Be friends?"

He wasn't even sure if she'd really said that now, or if it was just something his drink-adled brain had dreamed up. He could hardly remember those first few weeks after she'd left him.

"Friends…" Drusilla said. "I don't think I ever had friends. Only my family. You and Daddy and Gandmum. Even I was… different. It was always family who helped me. Who I helped. Or who I couldn't help, in the end. Never friends." She pasused, maybe to think. "A friend would be good, wouldn't it? And we were always so good together."

"It wouldn't be like that. Not like how we were." Spike didn't elaborate on if he meant the killing, or something else. What was the point, when everything was different now?

"What would it be like?"

"I… don't know." The closest Spike could come up with was Buffy and her lot, and he knew they'd never be like them. "Maybe we could find out."

* * *

Willow woke up. She couldn't tell what it was she had been dreaming about, only that it was bad, a nightmare. She remembered the feeling of it. Fear and sorrow. The feelings remained even when the pictures had faded. It could have been anything: going on stage and not knowing the lines, losing her friends, losing her magic. They were all fears she knew. All things she wanted to avoid, at all costs. She couldn't let her friends die, she couldn't let herself be useless again like she had used to be. The stage thing... well, she thought that would be pretty easy to avoid. Didn't make it much less scary though.

She slowly became aware of the world around her as her mind emerged from her dreams. Amy was sqeaking at her from the cage. Willow got up, and gave her some food. Amy held it in her hands and started nibbling.

Willow got dressed, the wandered downstairs. Dawn was already at school, but Buffy was sitting in the kitchen.

"Hey Buffy," Willow said.

"Hey Will," Buffy said. "Don't you have classes?"

"No, not today. We're supposed to, but something happened. I think the professors sick or something. Anyway, we're just studying at home today." Willow walked over to the cupboards and looked around. She frowned. "Does the air smell like burning to you?"

The front door opened with a crash.

Willow ran to the hallway to see what was going on. Spike was standing in the doorway with a blanket around him, semi in flames. He threw the blanket to the ground, extinguishing the flames and spreading soot on the floor.

"Are you here to see Buffy?"

Buffy got up and came to Willow's side when she heard her name.

"What do you want?" she snapped at Spike.

"Calm down," Spike said. "I'm not— nevermind. There's a demon, holed up in a cemetery nearby. Don't know what it's doing here, it's kind rarely strays beyond it's home dimension. My guess is someone summoned it. Why they thought that was a good idea, I don't know."

"You left your crypt in the daytime and got set on fire just to tell me about some demon. Really?"

"Well… yeah."

"You didn't think this could wait until later?"

"Well, the demon could, sure… but like I said, it must have been summoned. That's the only reason it could possibly have for being here. I know it's the Hellmouth and all, but this kind of demon is nasty. And maybe you could wait until later for the demon—they're nocturnal, more or less, so it's not going to come out until later. But the one who summoned it, probably human, so they'll be asleep at night."

"And most likely at work or school during the day. Again… you couldn't wait until later? What about Drusilla?"

Spike stiffened. "What about her? Told you, didn't I? Told you I wasn't going to help you with her."

With that, he turned and left the house, alsmot forgetting the blanket until Buffy threw it at him. Willow closed the door.

"What was that about?" she wondered.

"I have no idea."

Willow waited for Buffy to say something else, but she didn't. She stood looking at the door—or past it—for a moment longer, then she turned and walked upstairs. Willow didn't follow.

* * *

Buffy paced around the sitting room, and kept looking out the window. Dawn was late home. She should have been back from school almost two hours ago. Last time Dawn had been missing was when that singing demon was around, and had tried to make her his bride. It made sense that Buffy would be worried now.

"You sure it's something bad?" Willow asked her. "She could just be with a friend, or at Spike's."

"She probably is, but she still shouldn't go without telling me. I have to make sure she's okay. I'll got to Spike's. Do you mind checking Janice's?"

"Sure," Willow said. It wasn't far, and she wasn't doing much anyway. "If she's not there I'll go find you, okay? If she is in trouble, maybe you could use some back up."

"Thanks Will," Buffy said, with a small smile. But she wasn't entirely happy about it. Willow wasn't supposed to be using magic, and she knew she wouldn't be that much use without it. But maybe it wouldn't be too bad just once if they needed it.

She walked out, heading for Spike's crypt. It was starting to get dark now. Maybe they should head out and find that demon once they had Dawn. But she had to make sure Dawn was okay first.

Buffy pushed open the doors to Spike's crypt. She'd hoped to see him and Dawn, but not only was Dawn not there, Spike wasn't either.

"Spike?" she called. The only answer was a faint echo. She carried on into the crypt and checked downstairs. He wasn't there either. Great. Now two people were missing. Not that Spike was people. Or that she cared about him. She was just annoyed that there was one person fewer to help her find Dawn.

On the way back, she ran into Willow, who had obviously gone looking for her. "Willow! Please tell me Dawn's at Janice's."

Willow shook her head. "Sorry. I asked for her, and she wasn't there." Buffy had been afraid of that when she'd seen that Willow was alone.

"She wasn't a Spike's either?"

"Nope. Not even Spike was there."

"I can do a locator spell."

Buffy considered. Tara had said to them that Willow wasn't supposed to use magic. And she hadn't been very helpful the last few times either. She'd brought Buffy back from the dead—from heaven. She'd wiped their memories. But a locator spell couldn't be too dangerous. Or so Buffy hoped. She didn't know a whole lot about magic. Maybe if she did, she wouldn't even have let Willow near it.

"Okay. Let's go back home and do that, and then I'll get Dawn, and everything will be okay, right?"

So they went back. Buffy was getting bored walking all over town. Willow prepared the spell, using a tangle of Dawn's hair from her brush as a link to her. She seemed to go into a trance, and was it just Buffy, or did her eyes flash black for a second there? But then it was over and Willow's eyes were focused again, and looking right at Buffy.

"I know where she is," she said.

* * *

"Thought I told not to follow me?"

Spike noticed the sudden stop of the soft footsteps that had followed him for the past hour. He looked back, trying to see Dawn in her hiding place, but it was no use. In this part of the tunnels, even he could hardly see a thing. Plently of dark, shadowed niches to hide in. And some of them were bound to be hiding something much scarier than Dawn.

"You might as well come out nibblet, i know youre there anyway. Look, i wont tell Buffy youre here, okay?"

Dawn slunk hesitantly from her hiding place, gripless trainers skidding on the stone. "Like I care what you tell Buffy. Shed be mad at you too."

"And that would be why im not gonna tell her."

Spike started walking again and Dawn jogged to catch up. He coukdnt think how shed managed to keep up with him for long in this darkness. The only light came from his lighter, orange snd flickering as it hit the cave walls. He was sure she couldnt see a thing.

He heard the beast before he saw it. Smelled it a split second later. It was close. He looked back. Dawn shouldn't be here. He shouldn't have trusted her to stay back at the crypt. Why had he done that? Hed been hoping the girl had grown up a little through this last summer, but of course she hadn't. She still didn't listen.

"Dawn, you gotta stay back okay? If anything happens, ypu have to run back. Promise me that."

"Sure I guess," said Dawn.

"Dawn," Spike said.

"Okay, fine I promise," Dawn said with an eyeroll. She didn't like being left behind. He supposed that was why she'd tagged along in the first place.

He began to walk forwards, closer to the sleeping demon in the cave beyond. But then he heard a sound. Unmistable voices. What the hell were the Slayer and her witch doing here?

"Is something wrong?" Dawn had obviosuly noticed that hed stopped.

"Could say that. Buffy and wWillow are here. Reckon the Slayer noticed you were missing snd went and got Red to do a locator spell."

"Great", Dawn said. "They never let me do anything," she said under her breath.

"Its only been about six months or so since a hell god tried to sacrifice you for a ritual. I'd say Buffys got a reason to be paranoid."

"Okay, _maybe_ youve got a point," Dawn said.

"Dawn, are you here? Dawn?" Called Buffys voice from afar.

"I'm over here!" Dawn yelled back. Spike raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged as if to say they might as well give up now that Buffy was here anyway.

Buffy came into their line of sight shortly after. She wore an expression that could make any monster want to hide under its bed. It was beautiful. Beautiful like a cliff edge, or the light of the sun. Like anything that could kill you in an instant.

"What the hell is this?" Buffy demanded. "You took Dawn down here!?"

"I didnt take here. I went. She followed. What, you expected me to phsyically stop her? Need I remind you that I bloody can't?"

Buffy frowned. "But the other night - "

"Later, alright? We'll talk about this later. We've got to get this sorted right now, yeah?"

Buffy looked at him. "Sure."

"You stay behind with Dawn okay?", Buffy said to Willow.

"What? Buffy, I can help - "

"No, you can't. Tara said you should stop using magic. You already had to earlier. Don't do it again. Please, stay with Dawn for now."

Spike couldnt see Willow's face. She was looking down, away from Buffy. He had no idea why.

"Alright," she said. "Il'l stay with Dawn."

"Good," Buffy said.

She walked on, ahead of Spike. He watched her for a moment, long blonde hair swaying around her, storming into battle with a stake in her hand, crossbow on her back. Then he followed.

The demon slept. They couldnt know how long it would stay that way. He wasnt sure if either of them had the right weapons to face this thing, but they'd work if they were cunning enough about it. And of course they would be. Especially Buffy.

They fought as a team, Spike keeping the demon distracted while Buffy shot at it from a distance with her crossbow. One of the bolts lodged into its eye and it roared in pain as it reached for it, clawing at the bolt. It was half blind and preoccupied. This would be the perfect time to finish it off.

Spike ran at it, reday to plant his axe in its belly. It swiped him out of the way without even seeming to notice him. He gasped, pain explosing through his ribs. Suddenly glad he didnt need to breathe. He'd dropped his axe. Buffy called for him for a moment, but when he didnt respond she continued the fight.

Buffy kept fighting for a few minutes. It was an intricate dance, her trying to keep out of the reach of this thing capable of crushing herbwith one hand while she slowly shot away at it. But she couldn't keep up for long, she got hit, was down for a second, hut Dawn had heard her from her hiding place. Dawn came running in a little later.

"Dawn no!" Buffy yelled.

Dawn ran at the demon and buried a knife into its leg, then the demon grabbed her. Buffy leapt forwards and pushed her out of the way. Light filled the air and time seemed to slow for a moment. Spike felt his skin burn, like someone had opened a curtain. The demon roared again, trying to cover its eyes. Willow whispered something, something strangely loud in the silence that had so rapidly descended. The demon screamed, a sound like scraping shards of glass and it shattered and dissolved.

Then the light, the magic, was gone. The cave was dark and quiet. He heard crying.

"Dawn?" He got up, stumbling only for a moment. It was pitch dark now. The light from his lighter had gone out. He must have dropped it. He made his way by sound. He found Dawn, lying on the ground. She was whimpering softly.

"Dawn? You alright?" he asked her, kneeling down beside her.

"What did Willow do?" she whispered.

"I dont know, but the demons dead."

"It hurts..." Dawn said. She hardly seemed to have the energy to speak.

Spike clenched his fists. "RED! What did you do to her!"

"Spike? Where are you, I cant see." And there was a soft, flamelike glow in Willow's hand. It cast strange shadows in her face. He wasnt sure if she looked worried, guilty or afraid of him.

"Willow, what the bloody hell did you do to Dawn," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"Nothing. The spell was meant for the demon..."

"Meant for it, maybe, but it hit her too. Come look."

Willow followed him to where Dawn lay. She could tell she was hurt right away. Her face was twisted in a grimace of pain.

She shook her head. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"No. But it did. What did everyone say to you? You're losing control Willow. Someone already been hurt. Next time someone will end up dead." Spike said. But she wasn't listening, he could tell. Her light was flickering. It nearly went out.

"He's right," Buffy said. "You shouldn't have done that. I know you thought it would help, but it only made everything worse."

Willow looked between the two of them for a moment, her lip curled in disgust. Then she turned and walked away. The light she'd cast went out, and they were left in darkness.

* * *

Willow walked out into the dark, closing the door behind her. She stood on the doorstep and blinked in the dark. She was going back to her dorm. She didn't think she had anywhere else to go. She couldn't go back to Tara and now she couldn't stay with Buffy. Not after that.

A vampire walked up to her. She wasnt worried at first, but then she realised she was so tired she could barely feel her magic. As she tried to cast a spell and failed, her eyes widened in shock and the vampire grinning, lumged at her. She closed her eyes.

Nothing. She opened them. Drusilla stood before her. She held the other vampire in place, a hand over his mouth.

"Whats wrong, dolly? You look close to tears," said Drusilla.

Willow looked at Drusilla. She looked around. They were standing in a narrow alley. There was no way past her. If she turned back, the detour would take her a long way out, and through even more dangerous grounds. And she knew Drusulla didnt want to hurt her. She only had one choice here. To talk to her.

"Why are you here?"

"I want to help you. Haven't i been saying that all this time?"

The other vampire struggled in her grasp. But he was younger and he was weaker than her.

"I dont want your help."

"Are you sure about that? Does that mean i can let this one go? I thought you were having some trouble with him, but perhaps i was wrong. Perhaps you were merely planning to trick him into believing you were weak. Perhaps I should let him go..?"

"No! No. Dont. Just stake him."

Drusilla smiled, and a moment later was standing in a cloud of dust. "So you do need my help then," she said.

"For that. I needed your help for that. But not for anything else. Really. I'm fine."

But Willow wasnt fine, she knew that. Her mouth stung with the taste of tears and she still felt emptiness inside where magic had been. Had that spell really been the only option? No. It had to have been, otherwise why else would she have done it? Buffy and Spike were completely wrong. Tara was wrong. She was fine, her magic was helping them, why would that be a problem? But they didnt see that. Did Drusilla?

Her thoughts started to spiral and she was talking, and she hardly knew what she was saying, and then her words were replaced by tears and then arms went around her, cold arms that pulled her into a strong embrace.


End file.
